Black Heart of the Mountains
by Bajni
Summary: In the dark depths of the Misty Mountains there lay hidden an ancient artefact. Its dark and mysterious powers could become a tool to completely change its owner and the fate of the world. During the escape from the goblin caves Bilbo is not the only one to have come across an unusual object. Slowly built Thorin/Bilbo romance, AU since the adventures in the Misty Mountains.
1. Chapter 1

**AN****: Hey guys! This story is meant to be BilboxThorin. So first, if you don't like it, just don't read. Secondly, this is my first fanfiction so I'd really appreciate constructive criticism, since I want to improve. Also, English is not my mother-language, but I hope I did manage to use a range of vocabulary that is wide enough for pleasant reading and didn't make too many grammatical errors.**

**This fanfiction will follow both movie and book (I will switch between them and add a bit of my own ideas) until the moment Bilbo is lost in the goblin caves. Afterwards it'll become AU, and a rather disturbing one, for Thorin's gonna become quite bad ass :P**

**As to character development I plan to make it rather slow, coz I want the Bagginshield to be realistic, full of emotions, and not just thrown in your face with full force without even a word of explanation. I want them to have real feelings, not just smut going on. So don't get mad at me if nothing 'overly romantic' happens between them at the beginning. We'll get to it in proper time.**

**There may be some other pairing too, probably Fili/Kili, but I'm still not certain. You can voice your opinions on the matter in the reviews :)**

**Ok, end of my rambling xD**

**Enjoy ;)**

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**..::Chapter I – An Unexpected Loneliness::..**

He felt unusually alone. The hobbit closed his eyes as he slowly rested his back against the soft sofa. The sound of heavy raindrops became louder but it still couldn't muffle the silence present in the Bag End. It appeared to surround all the food gathered in numerous pantries, to hide between various garments neatly stored in many wardrobes, to creep beneath the chairs and table in the dining room and even to fill all the guest rooms that should have been occupied since the hobbit was known for his fondness of guests. However, this particular day of May none came to pay him a visit. Bilbo opened his eyes and his eyelids flattered for a second as he got used to light once again.

'_Seems a bit odd…' - _he thought -_ 'I didn't anticipate any guests today, so I should be perfectly fine on my own but somehow… this feeling. It resembles some kind of longing…But for what?' – _he glanced at one of the lit candles, its little flame vague in gray daylight. Suddenly the light flickered in his eyes like if the realization of something immensely important popped up into his mind. He straightened his back and his mouth fell open like if an exclamation was going to escape it. But then the feeling just vanished. The hobbit remained in the exactly same position for a long time, the only visible change was a slowly deepening frown. All of a sudden his face brightened , lips curving into a small smile.

'_Well, I suppose it's dinner-time!' – _he stated merrily but there still could be heard a hint of confusion in his voice.

After the meal the hobbit was certainly in a much better mood and so decided to bake a few cakes for the upcoming days. He slowly got up from his green armchair that once had been bought by his father. It was one of the most comfortable furniture he owned, so usually Bilbo was quite reluctant to leave it. That however wasn't for his laziness or lack of motivation, but rather for the fact that hobbits are accustomed to slow pace of life and peace.

When the hobbit got to his pantry door to gather the ingredients for an apple pie he'd had planned to make as the first, he found, to his utter surprise, that there were no apples left. It left him wondering how such a thing could come to pass, when he was quite sure he bought some fruit not that many days ago. Surely he wouldn't daydream as much as to forget what was stored in his pantry, would he? He quickly dismissed the wave of weird thoughts that started flowing into his mind at the memory of the strange feeling that grasped him earlier today. Bilbo ran through all the rooms assuming that maybe he had put the apples somewhere else and had forgotten all about them but his hopes were gone as he searched each corner, shelve and cabinet but found nothing edible except for remains of his dinner and lots of old cheese.

Bilbo didn't admit defeat and almost instantly had an idea as to how to remedy his problem, namely lack of food, which was unacceptable for a hobbit and especially for such a respected Baggins as him. So he decided to visit his gardener – Hamfast Gamgee, who was a very simple, yet good-natured and trustworthy man, and Bilbo was particularly fond of him, since he was the complete opposite of the irritating Sackville-Bagginses. Also he'd always listen if Mister Baggins had any concerns. So visiting him would not only be a way to fill the pantry (since Bilbo bought most of his supplies only from him), but might also help ease his restlessness.

'_Where did I put my keys..?' _– the hobbit wondered, content with the thought of seeing his friend. The keys soon were found and he threw them into the right pocket of his coat (as he would always do while carrying something that held some kind of importance to him).

He closed the green, perfectly round door, and after turning was met with the heart-warming landscape of Shire. The sun was nearing the horizon, but its rays fought their way through the gray clouds scattered all over the sky and still held warm within them as they grazed the world with their slowly fading glow. The soft looking meadows that spread between small hills inhabited by his kin, reminded Bilbo of times when he was just a little kid and had used to lay on the soft carpet of smooth grass blades, sniffing the air, trying to smell more and more of the overpowering, fresh fragrance. The view on the Hobbiton that stretched before him would always make his heart flutter, even though he'd lived there his whole life, hardly ever going anywhere else and knowing every little detail of the neighbourhood. He sighed and then began walking down the path full of muddy puddles, which were the remains of the whole day of rain.

…

The meeting with his gardener had been a reassuring one. As Bilbo lay in bed that evening, sinking deeply into the comfort of the fluffy pillow and warm, silky covers, he recalled the mouth-watering aroma of meal he'd been given by Hamfast's wife. It'd consisted of delicious fried turkey pieces, mashed potatoes decorated with fresh dill, and fruit salad with whipped cream on top. There also had been pancakes filled with strawberry jam, as a dessert. After devouring all of the food Bilbo had become quite sleepy, but then had come a time for conversation during which he'd completely lost track of time. So he'd come home late at night and instantly, after putting the sack of potatoes, three cakes, a chicken, lots of various jams and other types of food which were shoved into a large bag, on the shelves of his spacious pantry, he went to bed almost forgetting to get changed.

As he began drifting more and more in the direction of sleep he tried to remember a conversation he'd had with his friend.

'_Hmm.. I know the feeling you have mentioned.' _– he recalled Hamfast saying – _'Actually I once felt the same longing, or if you prefer to call it, loneliness. And that was just before I've met my wife..' _– here his friend had grinned at him – '_I wonder if it will be the same with you…' _– Seeing Bilbo's surprised and a bit confused face, the gardener had added – _'You know, Bilbo, it can also just indicate you've been spending too much of your time at home lately. Maybe you should try taking walks, like you used to do?'_

When Bilbo thought about it for a while it did make sense. Those days he would leave the Bag End much less frequently than in his younger years, and maybe it'd finally taken its toll. So he made a resolution to use fresh air more often.

'_A pipe of the Old Toby on the outside..' _– he thought dreamily – _'..it'd be the best way to start the day..'_ – then he drifted off to sleep.

…

In the morning he was woken up by the rays of sun, that were so bright it must have been long after the sunrise. The hobbit yawned, stretched and decided to start his morning routine immediately, for it was nearly midday.

After a refreshing cup of tea and definitely sufficient breakfast, Bilbo took his pipe, filled it with tobacco and went outside to sit on a bench in front of his hobbit-hole. It was situated between the flowers, that were in full bloom. Their fragrance mixed with the smell of tobacco he'd just lit and started inhaling, made him a little light-headed. Soon the smoke rings began floating all around him. They were various in size, some of them small like a little ring, while others were as big as a large dog's collar. Also a few of them remained in air, unmoved, but the rest lost their shape quite quickly, creating a curtain of smoke, surrounding Mister Baggins.

The relaxed and totally oblivious to what was going on around him hobbit didn't suspect anything unusual happening to him that sunny morning, since unexpected things hardly ever happened in Shire, and even less frequently happened to Bagginses. While he was sitting, gazing at the landscape before him, he didn't notice an old man coming the path, up the hill. How great was his surprise when he was pulled out of his reverie as his view was shut off by a tall figure. After a moment of confusion Bilbo tried to make out the man's features through the thick cloud of smoke. He noticed the elderly stranger wore a long, gray cloak, hiding any other garments he might had underneath. On his head was also a gray, pointed hat, that cast a shadow on his face, making it difficult for the hobbit to recognize him. When the awkward silence became too much to bear, Bilbo finally remembered his manners.

'_Good morning!' _– he said, in a rather dismissive tone. He hoped the stranger would leave him be, but instead the man stayed in one place, and after a while spoke, not hiding the amusement behind his voice – '_What do you mean?_' – there could also be heard a genuine interest – '_Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?_' – The man finished his talking and gaped expectantly at the now totally confused hobbit, who opened his mouth in wonder and tried to understand what was it this man wanted from him. Finally realizing the awkward situation he was in, Bilbo replied – '_I suppose, all of them at once._' – his hopes of getting rid of the intruder were now fairly low, as the said man remained unmoved in the exact same place he first came to a halt in. Seeing nothing better to do, the hobbit tried to ignore him. When he remembered that he still held his pipe, he decided to go back to smoking – maybe bluntly showing the stranger he had no intention for a further conversation would be enough to make him leave the hobbit be.

The ring of smoke that soon flew into the air was maybe not the biggest Bilbo have made in his life, but was certainly worth admiration, since it didn't lost its shape, yet floated with grace in the direction of meadows below the hill.

'_Very pretty!_' – the man spoke, once again gaining Bilbo's attention – '_But I do not have time for smoke-rings this morning, for I am looking for someone to share in an adventure._'

'_Adventure..?_' – the hobbit was truly surprised, for his kin was not very fond of this kind of activities, or rather didn't like them at all. It was a common knowledge that they were no heroes, but peaceful creatures, loving good meal and soft, comfortable bed – '_Well, I don't think any hobbit living west of Bree would be eager to participate in any kind of adventure. You should try somewhere else. _' – with that said, Mr. Baggins abruptly stood up and went around the bench, heading for his door, therefore indicating the end of the conversation. When the old man didn't move from his spot, Bilbo added – '_Good morning!_' – and wanted to turn around but was stopped by a not very pleased voice – '_What a lot of things you use _Good morning _for. Now you mean you want to get rid of me and that it won't be good till I move off._' – the hobbit stood there not quite knowing what to say, when suddenly a thought came to his mind – '_I don't think I know your name sir-_'.

'_Oh, you do know it; and I know yours Mr. Bilbo Baggins. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me!_' – the man said with a bit of irritation, for the hobbit still didn't remember him at all.

'_Gandalf? You mean the old wizard, Gandalf?!_' – Bilbo didn't hide his astonishment – '_The one who would always make all those wonderful fireworks, and tell the most amazing stories?_'

'_The exact same one._'

'_Dear me. I never would have thought to meet you again. I didn't know you were still in business._'

'_Where else would I be?_' – the old wizard said – '_I'm pleased to find you remember something about me. You will make a great companion for our adventure. _'

'_Adventure? Sorry, but I don't need any adventures! Thank you!_' – the excitement was long gone from Bilbo's voice – '_As I said, no one in Shire is in fact interested in them. So maybe you should try somewhere else. Good morning!_' – the hobbit seemed utterly lost with his words as the most ridiculous things escaped his mouth – '_-but please come over for tea – anytime. Maybe tomorrow? Why not? Come tomorrow! Good bye!' – _he quickly closed the door behind him and cursed under his breath. What on earth has gotten into him to have somehow uncontrollably said all those things?

He went further into the house, not realizing the wizard was drawing a queer-looking mark on the door, therefore bringing upon him the most unexpected turn of events a hobbit could experience.

…

Bilbo was on edge the whole next day. Everything seemed to fall from his trembling, with irritation or nervousness, hands. The thought of accidentally inviting the old wizard over for tea was probably the most irrational thing he's done in his adult life by far. The restlessness that had started gnawing at him in the morning became unbearable with the day's passing, as the typical teatime in Shire was rolling around. The hobbit paced the main corridor of the Bag End, trying to think of a way out of the mess he's gotten himself into. But the more he tried to make something up, the less useful ideas came to his mind. After the long moments of purposelessly walking in circles, he sighed resignedly, went to the sitting room and fell heavily on the armchair. The worry accumulated throughout the day, and the thought of what was yet to come made him as tired as he hasn't been in a very long time.

The Bag End was engulfed in silence, the only sound coming from an old clock hanged above the fireplace. Its ticking indicating the flow of time. The repeated sound somehow relaxed the hobbit a bit. Still sitting sprawled on the soft furniture, he stared absent-mindedly at the portrait of his grandfather – the Old Took. The man had been friends with the old wizard and it was because of him that the young Bilbo had seen such wonders as the amazing, beautiful fireworks, dancing on the night-sky so many years ago, or heard the engrossing tales of the long forgotten ages, that had made him wander in the Shire's forests in search of elves, dreaming of participating in the same adventures, filled with friendship, courage, great deeds, fighting against the impossible and saving what's dear to you from the claws of evil. The hobbit could still recall the excitement he'd felt in the presence of Gandalf, hoping that one day he'd take him on a journey beyond the borders of his little country.

With that memory in mind Bilbo glanced at the clock, only to find it was long after the time the wizard should have come if he would have accepted the invitation. The slight disappointment that rised its ugly head after the realization that Gandalf would most definitely not appear was quite unexpected for the hobbit, as most of the things happening lately. The feeling however quickly turned into irritation, pulling Bilbo from his sitting position and in the direction of kitchen, since food was always the best factor for calming his nerves.

'_What a wizard!_' – he said under his breath – '_Turning the comfortable and happy lives of hobbits upside down! _' – He thought of all his Tookish relatives, that somehow unexplainably disappeared, most of them coming back changed, talking only about adventures – '_Dreaming of forsaking all the good things in Shire, just to follow an old man into danger. Nonsense!_' – The hobbit exclaimed the last word, but to his own surprise once again went to glance at the clock. It was almost supper-time so there was no need to dwell on the thoughts of Gandalf. He'd most definitely not come - '_All this worrying for nothing. But well, I'm quite glad no one's going to turn up at last_' – he thought to himself, yet not knowing how wrong the statement was.

…

There was banging at the door. When Bilbo heard the noise, he was so startled that he almost fell from a chair. Not giving it a second thought, he quickly ran to the door and opened it. It was an action he just then deeply regretted, since the poor hobbit was greeted with sight of a dwarf, and not Gandalf, like he'd expected. He didn't even have the time to express his surprise, for the said dwarf bowed and added – '_Dwalin, at your service._' – and pushed his way into the Bag End. Soon his cloak was hanged on one of the numerous pegs in the hall, muddy boots marking his way to the kitchen, where he sat behind the table and started eating Bilbo's supper.

The hobbit was so utterly confused that he couldn't even comprehend what was happening. He was being sent on errands between his pantry and kitchen all the time , and had to ran to the door once in a while, as there seemed no end to the coming dwarves. At some point there also appeared Gandalf, but Bilbo didn't even have time to clarify what a very hungry and apparently not so well-mannered company was doing in his house, since he was constantly asked for more food, more wine and even more ale. He was running like in daze, his feet hurt and his head was a bit dizzy, which was for the noise of all the twelve, as he at one point counted, dwarves. Most of their names were so very similar, but Mr. Baggins somehow managed to remember all of them, as more orders were given by particular fellows. The two he found probably most troubling were Kili and Fili. They looked like the youngest ones, and from his experience with his young cousins Bilbo knew, those were most troublesome. They would do anything just to send the poor hobbit on edge, nerves consuming his entire being, as his mother's cutlery and plates was thrown in the air by the two fun-loving dwarves, who were just then joined by the rest.

When his uneasiness reached its limit and Bilbo anticipated the negative feelings to explode any moment the cheering suddenly stopped, as the hobbit-hole was devoured by silence, followed only by a distant, yet confident and strong knocking on the door. Its echo spread like a cling of cold metal against metal in a hollow cave, sending chills down the halfling's spine, as a vague supposition that what he was to experience was nothing ordinary. His suspicions rising when all the dwarves started muttering under their breaths, as he was non-verbally ordered by the burning gaze of Gandalf to open the door.

Bilbo had absolutely no idea what to expect as he grabbed the brass knob, squeezing it tightly in his slippery hand, and then turning, opening the door. It was almost like if the time itself slowed down, when the long, scratchy creek filled the hall, indicating that the moment to reveal the stranger, was just about to come to pass.

The hobbit didn't really have the time to take in the whole sight he was met with, for he was instantly drawn to the seemingly bottomless orbs, their depths filled a stormy ocean, which tides swirled under the pale moon, waves rising and falling, crushing with deafening roars, collapsing and shattering into millions of little silver pieces blinking on the black sky. The hobbit felt the stirring of something dangerously prideful residing there, its watchful glare ready to pierce anyone who'd dare oppose it. The swirling dark-blue pools every now and then hid behind the army of black lashes, swinging in the air and blowing over the already stormy ocean, adding to its rage.

Just when Bilbo thought he might be devoured by the angered waves, he realized he'd been staring. The amused chuckle behind him, that pulled him out of his daze, belonged to none other than Gandalf, who apparently must have gotten up to check what was taking him so long. The hobbit tried to ease the awkward situation by letting his guest in the house, but the dwarf glared daggers at him, as the hobbit almost stumbled over his own feet. The dwarf exchanged a few quick words with the wizard and then both turned towards the halfling.

'_Bilbo Baggins,_' – Gandalf said motioning towards him – '_Allow me to introduce the leader of our company_' – here he inclined his head towards the dwarf '_Thorin Oakenshield_.'

The hobbit felt himself shift uncomfortably under the piercing gaze of Thorin, as he said – '_So, this is the hobbit._' – He then went around the halfling, eying his fragile silhouette.

'_He looks more like a grocer, than a burglar_. ' – stated Thorin in quite a disrespectful tone, and left the halfling in the hall, going to where he saw his companions sitting.

A mix of emotions crossed Bilbo's face, the most evident being uneasiness and indignation.

When Gandalf glanced at him and noticed the somehow hurt and angry look, he put a hand on his shoulder. When he got the halfling's attention he explained that Thorin belonged to the royal family and was actually a king, so sometimes his attitude would be unbearable.

At the notion of having a sovereign in his home, Bilbo's eyes widened, resembling two large plates. He could not believe the wizard was really planning for him to deal with the dwarves, and especially with the grumpy Thorin. He was a hobbit, not a darn adventurer. And respectable hobbits would never let themselves be pushed into a situation Bilbo was now being forced into.

As he thought about it, he decided that he'd try to be the best host he could, for his manners demanded from him so, yet he'd refuse anything further they might want from him.

The hobbit traveled down the corridor, to his pantry. In the meantime his thoughts were suddenly assaulted by the image of Thorin's fierce eyes on him. He remembered that it had felt as if the king wanted to pierce his very soul, reaching into the depths, the strength his glare radiated tearing the hobbit in half. Bilbo then thought about the way the dwarf looked down on him, and threw the invading images into the corners of his mind. It was true that Thorin stirred something inside him. His prideful posture, waves of dark hair cascading over the broad shoulders, and mostly the look full of power in those enchanting, blue orbs. The hobbit was aware that the king's appearance sent the never before known feeling into his chest, but he really didn't want anything to do with him, since, as it seemed, Thorin only saw the tip of his own nose and nothing beyond it really interested him.

'_Anyway, it must be a result of the stress caused by those muddle-headed dwarves, or probably just hunger._' – he thought to himself as his insides clenched painfully at his previous thought.

When Bilbo finally reached the pantry, he was met with sight so horrifying that he froze in shock. The door to the room was wide open, revealing the miserable state it was in. All of the previously occupied shelves were emptied, save for some old cheese and stale bread. There were wine bottles scattered all over the floor, their contents long gone. The hobbit searched franticly but found hardly anything edible to serve the dwarf king.

He quickly grabbed a better-looking piece of cheese, the least hard-like-a-stone bread and some butter that, to his utter relief, didn't have the rancid smell about it, and ran to the kitchen. There he also found an egg and breadcrumbs in one of the cabinets and some oil he would need to prepare the dish he already had in mind.

After a brief while, the hobbit had a plate full of food. There were pieces of cheese, covered in egg and breadcrumbs, and fried afterwards. The still warm slices of bread with melting butter also made their way onto the plate.

Bilbo lifted the dish to his nose and sniffed it, pride filling him as a quite mouth-watering aroma assaulted his nostrils.

On his way to the dining room he didn't forget to bring along a bottle of wine, for he still had few stored away in rooms other than pantry.

When Bilbo entered the large, dimly lit room, the whole company was much more composed than before the Thorin's arrival. As he spoke, motioning to the map that lay on the table before him, most of the dwarves had absent looks on their faces, eyes staring somewhere far away only their minds could see. The king's deep voice filled the room, his words not really registering in Bilbo's mind as the tone of a particularly passion-filled phrase made him shudder.

The hobbit however quickly collected himself, and trying to prove himself the perfect host, emerged from the shadows of the doorway and deposited the tray with food and wine in front of Thorin.

At first it seemed as if he took no notice of the hobbit's action. However, when his monologue was finished and an elderly dwarf – Balin, if Bilbo remembered correctly, began his speech, Thorin glanced at the halfling, almost imperceptibly nodded his head, as if in thanks, and began eating. The fork in his hand was held in a very dignified way. Even though the blue orbs were constantly focused on Balin, not even the smallest piece of food joined the mess made in the room by the others. Bilbo couldn't help but stare at the way those hands moved, their motions firm and precise.

The hobbit had tear hi eyes off Thorin as the company started arguing. When Bilbo heard the word '_dragon_' and '_die_' among all the noise, he felt his legs become like a jelly. Then he started feeling dizzy, but somehow managed to get a hold of himself.

He thought the company would never come to an agreement and actually stop their yelling. He tried to somehow convince them, that this way of exchanging points of view was pretty pointless but all of his '_Please_' was lost in the chaos that have taken over the room. Suddenly, above all the voices there could be heard something in-between a roar and '_Enough_'. It was such a deafening and unexpected sound that Bilbo jumped in surprise. All eyes in the room turned to Thorin, who stood up, stern look on his face. The company fell silent and the hobbit realized it was the dwarf king's voice that had echoed through the room and had instantly prevented his kin from further disagreements.

When the passion-filled words once again started flowing from Thorin's mouth, his tone was no longer harsh and commanding like a brief while ago, but rather encouraging, so much that even Bilbo, who didn't really agree to participate in anything, felt the sudden urge to help the dwarves reclaim their homeland. It seemed that he was not the only one on whom Thorin had such effect, since approving comments soon filled room, yet they were blown over, when Balin spoke

'_I'm afraid there's no way into the mountain._'

Any objections that might have arisen were cut off by Gandalf.

'_That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true._' – said the wizard and fished a key out of his sleeve, or just made it appear in his hand. Which one it was, Bilbo was not entirely certain.

The hobbit noticed a very far-away look in Thorin's eyes as he was given the key and told it had belonged to his father. The emotions written over his face made Bilbo wonder if he was really as harsh as he seemed.

His train of thoughts was abruptly stopped when some kind of folded paper was suddenly pushed into his chest by none other than the dwarf king, whose eyes however, didn't even turn to the hobbit.

Bilbo quickly grabbed the object and paced into a more brightly-lit room, but where the dwarves still could see him.

There were bold letters in the headline, stating that the hobbit was holding a '_**CONTRACT**_'. He unfolded the thing, and discovering its actual length (which was surprisingly long) began reluctantly rummaging through its contents.

He found out he was offered to be a burglar of the company, and his task would consist of helping the dwarves regain their kingdom, which was most certainly occupied by a very large and dangerous dragon – Smaug. The document was also filled with various information concerning all kinds of expenses, potential profits and travel details.

The thing that made him really uneasy was however, none of those. When he reached the part of the contract that described all the ways in which he might be wiped off the face of the world, his knees started trembling and his breathing quickened, soon changing into panting. His imagination started playing tricks on him, as he saw all the horrible types of death he might experience.

The company looked at their burglar, concern visible in some eyes. Finally one of them decided to ask, if everything was all right. The hobbit's response was quite an unpredictable one, since a quick '_No_' escaped his lips and his limp body fell to the floor with a muffled thud.

…

When Bilbo woke up, the first thing he felt was a painful throbbing in the back of his head, quickly taking form of a huge headache. He slowly lifted himself from a lying position, a groan escaping his lips as the world started swirling and blurring. When his vision finally became steady, the hobbit realized he was on the sofa in the sitting room. There were a few candles lit in the room, their reflections dancing upon a glass of water standing on a stool, just beside a place where Bilbo's head lay just seconds ago.

He grabbed the drink, realizing just how thirsty he felt, and gulped its contents in a one, swift motion. It almost instantly brought relief, somehow dulling the headache and enabling the hobbit to analyze the events that had brought the strange situation upon him.

Bilbo didn't want to believe all that flashed through his mind had really happened, and tried to convince himself it had to be a dream. His hopes were suddenly shuttered when a singing, probably coming from the room next door, reached his ears. It was soon joined by other voices, humming along the leading one.

At first the hobbit felt annoyance that the uninvited and unwelcome guests had really dwelled at his home, but when the song became louder and no more incomprehensible as the quiet humming took form of words, Bilbo couldn't help but curl up and let himself be drown in the flow of the tale of gold, friendship and adventure.

By the time the song ended he almost managed to drift back to sleep. The muffled stumping of feet nearing him was what made him immediately tense up and sharply jump up from the comfortable sofa.

It was Balin who came to the room. He smiled at the hobbit and addressing him as a '_laddie_' asked to show the dwarves to the guest rooms, since they were willing to retire for the night.

The hobbit was content to comply, happy with the fact that even for once the company asked him for opinion, and not just taken the rooms that suited them most, for Bilbo was sure he'd have to spend the whole night in the sitting room.

He showed the dwarves to their rooms, leaving the task of dividing into small groups to them, since they exceeded the number of his spare bedrooms. He saved the best room, which was located right next to his, for Thorin.

When he was finished, the hobbit could finally rest for himself. When he lay in bed, sleeping haze already taking over him, he heard a deep voice in the next room humming:

_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away, ere break of day,_

_To find our long-forgotten gold._

The sound made him almost sad, for he realized he'd never again be able to hear it. The images of lands far-away, his imagination presented him with, sent a wave of something resembling regret through him. The hobbit tried to think of his peaceful life in Shire, that could be continued as if uninterrupted by the strange company, only if he stayed at home and left them to their fate. The thought however, wasn't as reassuring as he presumed. The concept of never again seeing the happy faces of those merry dwarves, and probably sending them alone into the claws of the dragon for a certain death, made Bilbo feel very uneasy. When he thought of spending the rest of his uneventful life in the Bag End, the cold and slippery fingers of a nasty loneliness clutched at his insides and pulled him into very uncomfortable dreams.

* * *

**AN:**** I wanted to finish this chapter a week or more ago, but somehow it evolved much more than I might have predicted. Anyway, I hope I didn't go too much into detail over irrelevant things.**

**The next chapter will probably be more of my own invention, as I want Bilbo to get acquainted with the dwarves. From what I know it was more or less 30 days since they set on their journey till they were captured by trolls. So pretty much time for forging friendships. **

**If you decide to review (which would be much appreciated), don't forget to tell me if you want to see a bit of Fili/Kili in this story.**

**Thanks for reading and till the next time ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:**** Hello again, lovely readers! :) Sooo, I have officially decided to make Fili/Kili the second pairing for this fic. Bilbo/Thorin will still remain the main one, however, as I mentioned in the previous chapter, it'll be slowly built, unlike Fili/Kili.**

**For the rest of my notes scroll down to the bottom of the page, but for now..**

**Enjoy! ;)**

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**..::Chapter II – The cold feeling clenching my heart::..**

Bright rays of late morning sunlight shone through the large window, located just above a beautifully carved bed. Dust floating and swirling in the air seemed to glow as the light pierced it, creating a unique, magical atmosphere. It was as if time itself has stopped in the room, separating it from the outside world. Suddenly a small bulge in the quilt stirred, the small movement causing the slow dance in the air to quicken its pace, chaos breaking the shiny patterns in the air, as if a little breeze has somehow found a way into the quiet enclave.

Bilbo woke up, rubbing at his eyelids, when they were tickled by the soft curls grazing the upper part of his face. He stretched, yawned lazily and sat up, looking absently at the room. After a moment his oblivious expression started changing into a deepening frown, as the memories of the previous evening began flooding his still hazy with sleep mind. Bilbo rose from the bed, leaving the warmth and comfort behind him, as he cautiously neared the door, anxious that the uninvited guests might still be somewhere in his home. The hobbit grasped the knob but quickly withdrew his hand, and hesitantly put his head closer to the door, ear flat against the wood, trying to determine if anyone was on the other side. The silence that penetrated Bilbo's mind for long moments and his effort to hear even the smallest of sounds that might indicate the presence of others in the Bag End, was unbearably fruitless, so the hobbit abandoned the task and opened the door, determined to find out, if all the events he could recall had really taken place, or had been just a very unusual dream.

Walking down the corridor Bilbo saw that all the other bedrooms were opened and vacant. He checked each and every one of them but found no signs of the dwarves, for the rooms were exactly in the same state as he remembered them after the last tidying. The hobbit started doubting that the events he recalled were real, putting the blame on too vast amount of wine, he might have had yesterday. It would at least explain the lack of any other memories than those of the company, which he had probably forgotten due to the alcohol.

Bilbo stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the kitchen and instantly all of his doubts were erased. The poor hobbit's face froze in utter horror and shock, at the miserable state of the room. There were several huge piles of dirty dishes and cooking utensils in the sink and on the counter beside it. A few empty tankards lay on the ground, since there was no place for them anywhere else, and there were also splashes of beer and wine all over the room. The hobbit suddenly felt dangerously dizzy, when he thought of cleaning all that mess only by himself.

...

After having brought the kitchen into a state of relative order, the hobbit could finally get down to making a breakfast. Sitting at the table, the dwarves had occupied the previous evening, Bilbo had a feeling that something was not quite right. If you had asked him, he probably wouldn't be able to explain what exactly might have been the cause, but deep inside he knew it had to do with the company. Maybe it was just his Tookish blood, always eager to taste the adventure, and trying to make Bilbo feel guilty for leaving the dwarves to their own fate, or maybe it was something else. Like too big amount of stress for just one respectable Baggins, not used to so many unexpected things happening in such a short period of didn't however, had the time to ponder on the matter any longer, for knocking on the door reached his ears. It wasn't as fierce and loud as when the strange company had come, so Bilbo quickly assumed it had to be one of his neighbours or relatives (begging for it to **not** be Sackville-Bagginses).

The hobbit ran to the door, half-eaten sandwich still in hand,and upon opening them found a not very pleased Gandalf,whose brows were furrowed, and lips set in a straight wizard opened the door further in a sweeping motion,not really bothering that Bilbo,still holding the knob, was pushed with it. The halfling, however, quickly regained his steady posture and even managed to take a bite of the sandwich just after his stomach had decided with a loud rumble that it was not yet time to be finished with the breakfast.

'_Bilbo Baggins! What are you doing?!_' – exclaimed Gandalf, annoyance easily detectable in his voice – '_It's half past ten and you're still eating breakfast, while the dwarves anticipate you to meet them by the Green Dragon Inn in thirty minutes! Have you even read their note?_'

'_A note? What kind of note? I didn't get any not-_'– Bilbo was certainly confused as to what the wizard was talking about, but didn't get to finish his sentence, for the other interrupted him.

'_You certainly got one, for I clearly remember Balin putting it on the mantelpiece, as I myself had advised him._' – with those words he strode into the sitting room, and after Bilbo finally caught up to him, he passed a small, folded piece of paper over to the hobbit.

The hobbit's eyes darted from left to right, as he took in the meaning of the words, indicating that the wizard was indeed correct, and Bilbo had no more than thirty minutes to get to the arranged meeting place. The only problem was that getting to Bywater, where the Inn was located usually took him approximately forty minutes of calm walking, and at the moment he couldn't just leave, since he had no supplies packed or even prepared, and they would be undoubtedly necessary on an adventure that might take away many months from his life.

'_You will still make it in time if you leave now._' – said Gandalf, his voice calmer than just a while ago.

'_But I'm not even prepared. I'd have to find clothes capable for travelling. And pack all the necessary supplies, and first I'd have to buy food, since the dwarves YOU brought had completely emptied my pantry. Furthermore I'd have to arrange things with my neighbours, so that they'd look after-_' –the hobbit spoke in an incredibly fast and almost incomprehensible manner, not realizing that Gandalf's expression once again turned into a highly annoyed one, until the wizard cut him off.

'_No time for that._'

'_But-_' – Bilbo was once again cut off.

'_Just pack the most necessary of things and off you go. I'll take care of the rest._'

With thatthe hobbit darted out of the room, grabbed a bag pack from a chest on his way through the hall and then sped into the biggest of his shoved as many useful pieces of garments as possible into the pack and hurried to the kitchen. Therehe wrapped the remains of his breakfast as well as the last, little loaf of bread he owned, with a green piece of cloth, and before closing the pack put them at the top of his clothes. As the hobbit rushed to the door he was abruptly stopped by Gandalf, who with mirth clearly visible in his eyes handed Bilbo the contract, a feather and a small bottle of dark ink. The halfling took them without even a word of complain and signed the document, not really ponderingon the probable consequences. His spidery handwriting differed greatly from Thorin's sophisticated signature and Balin's simple, yet untypical letters, but somehow, odd as it was, seemed to fit onto the contract. The hobbit pushed the feather and the still open bottle into the chuckling wizard's hands, and run out of the Bag End like if his life had depended on how fast he would leave it behind. He didn't really think about how the scrappy decision to join the company might affect his future, for if he knew even a half of what was going to happen, Mr. Baggins would certainly hesitate before rushing out of the safety of his home.

...

After Bilbo had left the home, having only ten minutes till the established meeting's time, Gandalf went around the Bag End in search of any things the hobbit might have forgotten to take. He didn't find anything useful for a journey, except for a pipe and a little bag of tobacco, and those the halfling would certainly appreciate. He put the things into a vast pocket of his cloak, and after spotting the keys to the hobbit-hole, firmly closed the door round, green door.

The wizard went downhill, nearing a small hill surrounded by a beautiful, colourful garden filled with the sweet fragrance of spring flowers. The place belonged to none other than the Gamgee family, who, from what Gandalf knew, were dear friends with Mr. Baggins, and would do best to trust them with the keys to the Bag End, for they weren't greedy, unlike some of Bilbo's relatives who sometimes tended to take others' belongings that fitted their taste.

...

Bilbo ran as fast as was possible with the heavy bag bouncing painfully up and down his back with each hurried step. The sky was clear, not even the smallest hint of clouds was visible, and the sun was already high above the horizon, making the poor hobbit feel like if he was being roasted, while sticky sweat streamed down his flushed face. He passed the Mill, run over the bridge, across the Water, and then sprinted down the path leading to Bywater. There were occasional trees on the both sides of his way, sometimes accompanied by small benches, most of them occupied by hobbits enjoying the pleasant shade under the lulling rustle of juicily green leaves. The majority of them looked at Bilbo quizzically, a few even moving as far as to tartly comment on the state of his head, which as they concluded 'must have gone crazy after all the decades under the Hill'. The hobbit tried to ignore them, but at one point nearly gave in to the urge to protect his long-built respect and social rank, however when he saw the small Inn at the horizon, he instantly remembered the task at hand and even managed to quicken his pace a tad bit.

Having finally reached his destination Bilbo found Balin standing at the doorstep and waiting for him.

'_So, you're finally here Mister Baggins._'

When he got no response except for the loud panting, the dwarf smiled comfortingly and inclined his head towards a stable, from which, as they could see, Thorin and the company had led out their ponies, and were already mounting them.

The two of them joined the rest and the elderly dwarf mounted his pony, leaving Bilbo the only one standing on the ground. The hobbit clearly didn't look amused as he was looked down by the whole lot of dwarves, not only tall by their own height, but additionallyalso the animals'.

'_Give him a pony and let us go!_' – Thorin ordered in a harsh voice.

'_But-, I'm absolutely capable on walking on my own. Actually I do take lots of long walks around the Shire and will certainly be able to keep up the pace-_' – the hobbit suddenly stopped his rant when he felt a strong arm lift him up. He was deposited on the saddle of one of the smaller ponies, the whitest one to be precise. He turned his gaze a little to the right and found out it certainly had to be Dwalin, who completely ignored his disagreement with the leader of the company and put him onto the animal's back, for there were no more dwarves behind them. Bilbo wanted to complain, but upon seeing the stern look Dwalin gave him, he instantly dismissed the idea.

After a while the hobbit heard someone from the front of the group exclaim.

'_Aren't we waiting for Kili and Fili?!_' – Bilbo looked around and noticed that the dwarves were indeed not amongst them.

'_I sent them to replenish our supplies._' – answered Thorin – '_They will catch up._'

...

The two brothers rode side by side through the little, hobbit village, not really concerned by the curious and sometimes anxious looks, that were sent their way. Fili had Kili to his right, while in the left hand he held the reins of a pony carrying supplies, that they had just obtained. It mostly consisted of food, but there were also a few spare bedrolls and clothes, necessary in case something happened to the original ones, which was quite probable on such a long journey as slow walk soon became annoying to the young, impatient dwarves, so as soon as they left the central part of the village that was crowded with hobbits, they urged the ponies into a rhythmic trot in unison. Not long after that both brothers erupted with a sonorous laughter, as they passed a fluffy hobbit carrying a pumpkin even fatter than himself, who with a bewildered look fell onto his backside at the mere sight of them.

Soon they left the village behind them, following the road Thorin had said the company would take. It led through soft-looking, yellow and green fields, dotted with multi-coloured flowers in some places. The air was filled with the freshness, new for the dwarves, who had spent all their days in the caverns of the Blue Mountains and never before had had a chance to taste the freedom, that the widespread plains provided. As they rode, a light breeze slightly picked up its pace, sending their hair flying around their mirth-filled faces. Fili's braided, bright, long locks remained more under control than his brother's, whose unrestrained and a lot darker ones danced, swirling in the cooling, spring wind, glistening under the shiny sunlight.

Fili couldn't take his eyes of his sibling's face, watching as Kili's lips turned upward and then opened slightly in a small laugh as he urged his pony into gallop, evidently enjoying his first real moments of freedom, for when they travelled to Shire with their uncle, he'd expected seriousness and maturity from the members of the company and would certainly frown upon his nephews' levity. Now, when they finally had some time only for themselves, free of any rules, it was no wonder the two looked as happy as little kids playing without their parents' watchful stare.

The older dwarf hurried his pony, so that he was once again at his brother's side. Kili had an oblivious expression on his face, pure joy radiating off his features, as he looked far over the horizon towards a distant forest, unaware of Fili's lingering gaze on him. The younger's eyes shone with excitement, merry flickers of inner light clearly visible beneath the dark orbs' surface. He gripped the reins a little tighter, slowing down a bit, once again falling into the rhythmic trot and turning his head to his brother with a grin. Fili turned his gaze away with a playful puff and let his pony fall into place beside the other.

The older one knew, he always had the urge to protect Kili, it has been there ever since the other was born, but the feelings grew deeper and expanded as of recently, and Fili had absolutely no idea what to make of them. The problem was far from insignificant, since every time he glanced at his brother, something dark and possessive stirred within him, sending waves of desire through his body, and he was certainly sure it was far from normal. Such things as relationships between males were rather disapproved, and such close relations amongst family members were unheard of in the dwarfish culture, and would definitely be discouraged. The image of Thorin's angered look suddenly popped into Fili's mind at the thought, but it wasn't his reaction he feared most. He once again glanced at Kili and instantly his imagination's eyes saw the delicate features contort in disgust and rejection at the supposed declaration of feelings far greater than just brotherly love. The older dwarf felt a lonely tear slide down his cheek, but managed to rub at it before his companion turned towards him, questioning look grazing his face.

'_What's wrong, Fili?_' – his voice was concern-filled, yet somehow still jingled as beautifully as ever, from what the other dwarf noticed.

'_Oh, it's... nothing. Nothing in particular._' – he replied, avoiding his brothers gaze.

Kili accepted the answer without any comments, but felt cold disappointment rise inside him, at the thought of Fili hiding something from him. There had always been an unspoken agreement between the two, that if one of them had any kind of problem, he could tell the other and certainly get help in return. Now, when the long-built trust seemed to have cracked, the younger dwarf was at a loss as to what steps he should take towards his brother, in order to not push him even further away from himself.

Neither spoke a word, as a heavy silence, so unusual for the brothers with bonds so strong, fell between them. The only sounds filling the sweetly-scented air were those of the softly trotting ponies, occasional birds chirping their lulling songs and the light wind combing the sun tanned fields with longing sighs. The scene felt literally bittersweet.

After the long and seemingly never ending moments the dwarves reached a small forest. The path leading through it was well lit, and run in an almost straight line, so that they were able to see what lay further on their way. The first thing the brothers heard upon entering the trees' shade was a distant echo of merry laughs of the company, that was far, at the edge of their sight. The two dwarves found themselves getting closer and closer to their kin, but when they neared enough to be able to distinguish each one of them, suddenly Fili halted his pony. Kili instantly noticed this and stopping, turned towards his brother, uncertainty written all over his face.

'_Kili,.. I.._' – spoke the older one with hesitation.

'_What is it, Fili?_' – his brother asked, reassuring smile grazing his features.

Fili turned his head away, insecurity eating him from the inside. He felt immensely stupid for even indicating that something was not as perfect as his brother thought it was, but at the moment, when they still didn't catch up to the company, was probably the occasion, when they could have sure privacy. And the last chance to reveal his problem to Kili. If they only waited for a while, the company would disappear from their line of sight and that would be the last perfect opportunity for the talk.

'_Kili,_' – Fili spoke, turning his whole attention towards his curious brother – '_Let's-_'

He never got to finish the sentence for someone from the company noticed them, calling for the brothers to join, and making the others turn to see their arrival. Kili looked apologetically at Fili, who signed resignedly, and they both hurried to catch up to the group, the older ones' mind screaming at him for not using the occasion to talk earlier.

...

Bilbo watched with curiosity as the two brothers neared them, Kili's frown indicating he was deep in thought, staring at his brother, whose expression was even more distant. The halfling didn't want to stick his nose into dwarfish affairs, but it was so painfully obvious the two were interrupted in the middle of something important. He didn't dare ask what was the matter, for the fear of causing even more problems, since he was just a hobbit, and that meant completely oblivious to his companions' culture and customs.

...

The day went by relatively quick, as the group travelled through small forests, fragrant fields and zigzagged in between little, green hills. The Shire was known as a peaceful land, so they could rode relaxed, for there were no enemies or any other types of threats. At first Bilbo felt uneasy in the company consisting only of dwarves, and a wizard, who had joined them at one point, and after a small chat with the hobbit, moved to the front of the group, apparently having more important matters to discuss with none other than Thorin Oakenshield. The halfling wasn't keen on the idea of going beyond the borders of his country, but his worries were forgotten when the dwarves, really curious about their new burglar, rode up to him and started little talks. Bilbo didn't anticipate any of them to be nice towards him, judging by his experience from the previous day, when his whole hobbit-hole had been almost literally turned upside down, but he was pleasantly surprised. By the end of the day he has spoken with Ori, who turned out to be pretty young and shy, but extremely talented with drawing and knitting; his brothers – Dori and Nori, who seemed overprotective of the younger one; Bombur, who was particularly interested in cooking; his brother Bofur, an easily likeable and optimistic dwarf, whom Bilbo instantly liked; brothers Fili and Kili, who seemed to have forgotten about their issues, whatever they were, and told the hobbit all about their home in the Blue Mountains, what adventures they expected during the quest, and how horribly stubborn their uncle Thorin could be; Gloin, a dwarf who mostly spoke of his son – Gimli, and proudly praised his wife's fine beard; his brother Oin, the healer of the company. Bilbo was also acquainted with Bifur, who only grunted and motioned his hands as a reply to anything the hobbit had said, but it was apparently due to the rusting axe sticking out of his forehead. The only ones who didn't show any particular interest in him were obviously Thorin, too proud to abandon his place at the head of the group just for the sake of chatting with the company's new addition; Dwalin and Balin, the dwarves who rode with the leader, probably discussing the further plans for the quest.

Bilbo noticed that the sun was nearing the horizon, and when he thought the weariness of a whole day of travelling would take its toll and take away his last remains of will to stay on the pony's back, they finally stopped.

Bilbo wandered a little bit away from the group, as Thorin ordered them to prepare the camp. The hobbit watched the dwarf, slightly leaning on a tree, for otherwise he'd have collapsed from exhaustion. The leader of the company didn't show any signs of tiredness, his posture indicated only strength and pride stored in the armour-clad body. Bilbo couldn't help but notice, how the other cared for his kin. It was not only about the way he decided to go on a quest, therefore putting his own life in danger, to give his people a real home, but also about his attitude towards them. The dwarves in the company treated themselves like family and Thorin was no exception. Even though he was the one giving orders, he still managed to make the others not only respect him, but also somehow forged bonds stronger than those of a mere leader with them. The hobbit turned his eyes away, realizing he had been staring.

The night was already upon them, for the heavy cloak of darkness has already engulfed the world, enabling the little, blinking lights to appear far above the world. Bilbo stared into the sky, watching as the stars came to life, each pulsating with its own rhythm, sending waves of pure white light into the enormous space, parting them and Middle-Earth. The hobbit felt a shiver run through his body, as a light breeze tangled him in its icy-cold breath. He looked in the direction of the dwarves' merry voices and noticed that the fire was already bright. Through the trees he saw vague shapes of his companions, walking around the fire, probably preparing the camp for the night. He sighed heavily, and pushed himself off the tree, ready to go back, when suddenly something blocked his way.

Bilbo stumbled backwards, painfully colliding with a tree trunk. He looked up, blinking and trying to see who was the cause of the situation, expecting it to be maybe Fili or Kili, who were too fond of jokes, as for his taste. To his utter shock the hobbit didn't find any of the younger dwarves' figures in front of him, but the one he didn't anticipate most – Thorin Oakenshield.

He was standing just inches away, disallowing any movements from the halfling. Bilbo stared into the blue eyes, softened by a distant glow of the moon. He felt a lump form in his throat, when he started blushing, realizing just how close the other was one, for the hobbit could literally feel his body heat. When the dwarf remained unmoved, and Bilbo's tired legs started threatening to give out, he coughed lightly, trying to find a way out of the awkward situation. The other finally seemed to notice his discomfort, and took a step back. The hobbit sighed, releasing the air he hadn't realised he had been holding. He tried to move pass Thorin and towards the camp, when he was unexpectedly grabbed both arms, and pushed onto the tree once more, except this time it was much worse than the previous and he didn't manage to hold a muffled moan at the horrible pain that took hold of his back. He looked up at the dwarf with hurt and questioning gaze, not really understanding what was happening.

'_I want you to stand still and listen carefully, for I do not like repeating myself._' – said Thorin in a commanding voice.

Bilbo only nodded, afraid that his voice might come out squeaky. The other one seemed satisfied with such a form of confirmation, and after a while of consideration spoke again.

'_You are not one of us and you never will be. No matter what you do or say, you will always remain a small, fragile halfling_._ If Gandalf wants, he can take you on the quest, but neither I, nor any of my dwarves will throw away our lives to protect you. Is that clear, burglar?_ ' – he spoke the last word with something resembling malice, his breath falling directly onto Bilbo's face.

The hobbit stood numb, surprised at the outcome of the situation, but decided to nod, hearing an almost inaudible growl escape Thorin's mouth.

The leader of the company released him and backed away. Bilbo didn't need any more encouragements and instantly turned towards the light and quickly marched in the direction of the camp, the harsh words still echoing in his mind and making his little, hobbit heart clench painfully.

* * *

**AN:**** Ok, I know I've classified this fic as a tragedy, and right now it seems pretty light, but it will live up to its genre, I promise. I just need to build up the plot and characters' relations towards each other. And only then, when I have solid background, will I be able to drift onto the darker themes.**

**I'll try to write the next chapter within 2 weeks, but before updating I'd like to finish and upload my Thilbo one(or two)-shot called 'Lost. shadows'. So if you're interested in reading a sad and tragic story about how Bilbo and Thorin can never have a happy ending, for there are some obstacles even they cannot overcome, follow my profile for any new updates or just check out, from time to time the fanfiction's Thilbo M rated section. **

**Thank you for reading and see you next time ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:**** Hello everyone! I'm really sorry for the long wait but school was a jerk lately, and I had almost no time to write :/ However, as you can see, I managed to deliver this new chapter to you. And I hope you will like it :) So, enjoy the read ^^**

* * *

**..::Chapter III – ****Tell him to leave****::..**

It took them four full days since leaving Hobbiton to finally reach the border of the Shire. It had been days filled with almost constant laughter of the younger dwarves, stories of the former glory of Erebor told over the fire, and Bilbo wincing and blushing embarrassed whenever they passed a village and the most shocked expressions were sent his way. He was sure that by the end of the week all the Shire would know of his departure. And maybe the gossip wouldn't be that bad if not for the fact that his companions were no hobbits. Actually they were the perfect opposites of his kin, and that would certainly bring lots of talking upon him for the next few years when he came back. If he would come back. And that was doubtful considering that he might die somewhere in a deep cavern, scorched by the blazing fire of a dragon.

The thought made Bilbo shudder like a jelly, his head becoming oddly light. Just when he thought the swirling and the whirlwind of colours would suck him in, the company suddenly stopped and everyone started dismounting. He looked around confused and only when he noticed the last rays of sun slipping behind the horizon he realized it was almost night and they needed to set up camp.

Bilbo pulled his feet out from the treads and leaned a bit to the left, looking doubtfully to the ground below. A bit too far below. Myrtle stamped from hoof to hoof a little impatiently and Bilbo had no other choice than to get down, since some of the others were already leading the ponies away. He looked around helplessly, trying to find Gandalf who had been helping him to dismount for the past days, but noticed the wizard was at the head of the company. The old man was slouched forward and listening intently to what Balin was saying. And he was totally oblivious to the hobbit's distress.

The hobbit puffed angrily with a bit of exaggeration, determination suddenly rising in his chest. He grabbed the front of the saddle and threw his right leg over the back of it, just like he had seen the others do before. He tried to slide down but when he was already halfway down, his hands holding tightly the rough leather and feet dangling helplessly still a bit too high, he realized he was not going to make it down without jumping. He looked over his shoulder to the ground below and hardly managed to hold in a yelp when the pony started getting impatient and walked a few feet forward. His hold on the saddle tightened but Myrtle started trotting towards the rest of the ponies and suddenly one of his hands slipped.

When he fell backwards and closed his eyes in anticipation of hitting the ground, he was prepared to feel pain. He was sure it would come. But somehow it didn't. Instead there was a soft brushing of grass on his feet and something heavy at his shoulders, steadying him. Relief was the first thing to enter his mind. Then it all started sinking back in. The tingling of the soft thin leaves at his skin. The weight at his arms. The smell of fresh air, with a bit of pony's scent and a slight tinge of wetness. The lulling sound of water flowing. A river. The border. Heavy footsteps coming from many different directions. The heavy warmness on his shoulders. The quiet breathing just behind him. Wait. What?

Bilbo opened his eyes, startled, just mere seconds after the fall. Ridiculous thoughts and the most improbable scenarios were racing through his mind. For a moment he was anxious, being almost sure it was Thorin who stood behind him. Who caught him from falling. Who would undoubtedly turn him around and scowl. Yell. Express just how useless the halfling is on a journey like that, for he cannot even ride properly. Yet the anxiety was not the only feeling there. There was something more. Something wilder and a lot more defiant. Hidden beneath the multiple layers of good manners and still warm embers of respectability was a wish to face the leader of the company. To have that heavy gaze, those azure eyes fixed only on himself. To feel this deep voice addressing him, so that his whole body would vibrate with the intensity of the sound. Bilbo couldn't quite pinpoint where those desires came from. He had only known the dwarf for even less than a week and already the ridiculous attraction was driving him mad. He tried to extinguish the feeling, hoping that it wasn't too late and it was still possible. For it is a dead end situation to want something, which is beyond one's reach, isn't it?

The hobbit's eyes flattered open as the weight on one of his shoulders suddenly dispelled. He didn't even have enough time to take in what was before him, because the one behind him decided to circle the hobbit in order to face him, instead of swirling him around.

Thud. The first step. There appeared a silhouette on the edge of his vision, to the right. And wild panic rose its head within his chest. But before he could even blink, there was the second step. And then the third and the dwarf was before him.

"Bofur..?"

"You alright there, Bilbo?"

"Yes, I'm quite fine," the hobbit answered, "thanks for, you know, catching me."

Bofur smiled friendly in response which instantly lightened Bilbo's mood also tugging the edges of his lips a bit upwards.

The moment, however, was not meant to last any longer, for Bilbo spotted somebody standing a few steps behind Bofur. He inclined his head to the side to get a look at who that was and his eyes widened in anxiety at the sight.

Thorin was glaring directly at the hobbit, his face wearing that usual broody expression, which was a lot more intense that normally. However, even despite the scowl, the dwarf still managed to appear truly kingly, radiating strength he undoubtedly possessed.

Bilbo gulped loudly and fidgeted under the gaze. He mentally punched himself for noticing such things as the way the evening light was playing in those blue orbs, how soft those lips seemed surrounded by the scratchy beard, or how the muscles were playing in that hand when it formed into a fist and loosened again. He also realized just how much his own hands started sweating. 'Why can't those ridiculous feelings just go away?' – he thought to himself with annoyance, still unable to tear his eyes away from Thorin.

Suddenly something pulled at his sleeve, throwing Bilbo out of his balance so that he had to stop staring at the leader of the company. He glared to the side and noticed Bofur, still standing beside him.

"Care to help me gather some firewood?" – Bofur asked trying to sound nonchalant, yet Bilbo saw curiosity and maybe a bit of concern in his gaze when the dwarf glanced briefly at Thorin and then back to him.

"Umm, sure," Bilbo answered hurriedly and followed the dwarf, who instantly took off, into the nearby forest. He didn't dare look back at Thorin.

After a short while of walking they stopped and Bilbo started picking up random smaller branches. Bofur looked at the hobbit and noticed his absent expression, which looked like if he was musing over something. He certainly couldn't understand what got Thorin so angered. It was expected that Bilbo would have problems coping with the everyday actions present during the quest. Actually most of the company might have problems later on. They were no warriors and even their loyalty wouldn't be enough to save them from trouble. He couldn't grasp Thorin's reasoning. Their leader had always seemed so considerate, even if he demanded much he considered one's potential and skills. But with the hobbit he acted in a completely different way, like if Bilbo was some kind of a half-elf. Bofur frowned a bit. What was oddest about the situation was that the king had no reasons to treat him in such a manner, except maybe for the fact that Bilbo wasn't their kin and that he would probably not be much help on the quest. Bofur was sure there had to be another reason, yet he couldn't figure it out.

"Bilbo," the hobbit turned his head in the direction of the dwarf "you ever seen the mountains?"

He concluded the best way to help the halfling was to somehow distract and cheer him up, so that he wouldn't ponder on how lowly Thorin might think of him. There was no point in blaming their king. After all anybody would be a little bit grumpy if they had to lead a bunch such as them into an unknown danger.

Bilbo shook his head and picking up another branch spoke, - "I've never left the Shire. Though I wanted, in my youth. I had this dream of meeting elves and having all sorts of adventures with them, of seeing the world." The hobbit chuckled at the memories of himself as a small lad, running through mud and rain with a stick and fighting imagined foes. "I never would have thought, even back then, that I'd end up in a company of dwarves of all things," – he said laughing a little. "So mountains, I've never seen them. But you do live in ones, don't you? What are they like?"

"Certainly colder than your Shire. But also warm in a way," – the dwarf smiled and continued – "It's home after all. And Erebor is said to have been the most heart-warming sight of all the peaks."

"You haven't lived there before- before the dragon came?" – Bilbo inquired curiously.

"No. Me and both Bombur and Bifur were born in the Ered Luin." – here Bofur smiled widely, forgetting all about the previous concerns, and told the hobbit of the times they had been just mere dwarflings and he and his cousin had played pranks on everyone around, distracting them long enough for Bombur to get sneak cookies from a kitchen for the three of them.

They returned to the camp laughing full-heartedly and Bofur looked quite happy that he managed to lighten the hobbit's mood. It seemed the hobbit forgot about their leader's cold attitude towards him. He even opened up a little by helping Bombur prepare the strew and later on getting into a conversation with Balin about maps and legends of dwarves and hobbits. Bilbo was so engrossed in the talk that he didn't notice some of the others join them. So when the hobbit was explaining one of his people's summer customs, which was about adorning one's head with all sorts of flowers, from each one held different significance, he no longer looked as uncomfortable as during the first day with the dwarves and somehow seemed to fit in, at least for a while. He still looked with disapproval and no amusement at all at the dwarves' lack of manners, yet there were visible the first strings that had started forming between him and the strange company. If everything went well they could all get on quite well, despite all the differences.

Gandalf peered at Bilbo's slightly irritated yet content expression as the halfling was interrupted in the middle of his explaining by Gloin's rant about his wife, which was already known by heart to everyone in the company. It would certainly do some good to the hobbit to be finally out in the world rather than sit throughout his life in the solitude of the Bag End.

The wizard chuckled at the looks the dwarves gave Bilbo when the hobbit wondered aloud how they were able to distinguish males and females if both had beards.

'There is nothing better in the world than an evening spent over fire in a good company,' – Gandalf thought to himself, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

...

Bilbo wriggled a bit in his bedroll and for the hundredth time that night attempted to adjust the small folded blanket he used as an imitation of a pillow. It did nothing to ease the discomfort the hard, cold ground below caused him. The hobbit tried to ignore the numbness spreading in his right arm as he lay it in an awkward manner, trying to support his head. But unfortunately there were also other things he was sure he'd never get used to falling asleep with, such as the loud snoring of some of the company or a bit acrid smell of the fire.

He was accustomed to silence at night even more than a random hobbit, for he had been living alone in an enormous hobbit-hole ever since his parents had passed away. And that resulted in sleepless nights whenever there was even the smallest disturbance.

The long hours of growing irritation and restlessness made Bilbo decide to get out of his bedroll and somehow occupy the slowly passing time. He sat up slowly and after massaging his numb arm, looked around. The fire was already faint, casting long shaky shadows over the sleeping forms of the dwarves. Bilbo spotted Gandalf sitting against one of the nearby trees. The wizard's pointy hat was pulled down, so that its brim obscured his face, making it impossible to determine if he was asleep or silently watching over the company.

The hobbit's eyes travelled further over the sleeping company until he finally noticed that he wasn't the only one awake.

Thorin's nephews, who were supposed to keep watch for the first part of the night were sitting across the fire from Bilbo, or rather Fili was sitting cross-legged and smoking his pipe, while Kili was sleeping and using his brother's lap as a pillow.

The hobbit considered joining the young dwarves but quickly dismissed the idea, noticing the way Fili's fingers run through Kili's hair, and how he looked at his brother. Maybe Bilbo was just exaggerating things, but he didn't want to interrupt the dwarf, so he settled back down and waited till sleep finally took him in the early hours of the break of day.

...

Bilbo woke up in the morning to the shuffling of the dwarves packing their belongings and preparing for leaving the camp. He sat up and yawned, stretching his aching limbs. He was exhausted, not having slept much that night but knew there was no point in complaining.

After a quick and not really satisfying breakfast the company mounted the ponies and began the further journey.

The hobbit peered at the front of the group and his eyes found Thorin on their own accord. His gaze lingered on the king a bit longer than necessary and when he realized what he was doing not for the first time, he looked to the side, trying to find anything to set his eyes on instead of the dwarf, whose mere sight could send Bilbo's thoughts flying in an uncontrollable direction.

His attention was suddenly brought back to steering his pony when he heard loud clinging of hoofs on the stone. The company was riding over a small bridge with a lazily flowing river below it. The second Bilbo realized that he was actually halfway through and on the exact border of his homeland he pulled at the reins and twisted his head backwards, trying to get one last farewell look.

The hills in the distance wore their usual, calming green colour and remained Bilbo painfully of his own home under the hill. He tried to memorize everything there was to the view – the soft, lulling breeze caring a faint scent of flowers, the warm caress of sun on his face, the distant chirping of birds, and mostly the feeling of contentment rising in his heart as his senses took in all the Shire had to offer.

Soon the moment was lost as Myrtle joined the other ponies in getting off the bridge and further down the road, and Bilbo had to turn his head back forward. He rode in silence, thinking he might never see his home again. He didn't even notice that he managed to get rid of the thoughts about the dwarf king, so lost was he in his musings.

...

Bilbo didn't like Bree the second they entered the town. There was a stale smell in the air, the main road was muddy and rutted, and the people were much too huge, making the hobbit feel even smaller than before. As they rode in the supposed direction of an inn he glanced from side to side noticing a few unwelcoming glares sent their way. Yet most of the townsfolk either ignored them or glanced at them briefly before going back to what they were doing.

The company stopped in front of a three-storey house with a wooden plaque dangling from a metal stick above the entrance. It had a fat white pony engraved upon its surface.

"Prancing Pony," – Bilbo read out the inscription below the animal, - "Is that the inn?" – he wondered aloud craning his head up and looking doubtfully at the tall stony building. In Shire everything was only on the ground level (except for mills) and the thought of spending night with something so vast above his head made the hobbit feel quite insecure. Yet, having a real bed was certainly a better perspective than sleeping on the cold ground.

The company dismounted their ponies and gave them to a stableman to take care of. When the dwarves were struggling to get through the inn door, which proved difficult, considering that most of them wanted to enter first and get the best ale, Bilbo noticed Gandalf saying something to Thorin. The dwarf nodded with a stern expression and the wizard turned, walking away from the company.

The hobbit was taken aback at first but then became scared at the thought of the wizard leaving them at this point, when their journey had just began.

"Gandalf!" – he called after the old man, who stopped and after turning around and noticing the hobbit, neared him in a few swift strides. "You can't leave us now! We've barely left the Shire," – said Bilbo in an anxious tone.

"Oh Bilbo, don't you worry. It's briefly. I'll be back by morning," – replied the wizard – "Besides you are safe without me. Were something to happen there's a whole company of dwarves to rescue you." – He smiled reassuringly at the hobbit – "I'll be going on my way now. Enjoy the real bed for the night; it's the last such opportunity probably in many weeks," – with that he turned and went, Eru only knows where.

Bilbo stared after the tall silhouette with a pointy hat until it disappeared into another street. He sighed and turned in the direction on the Prancing Pony only to realize all the dwarves had already entered the inn. All except one.

Thorin stood unmoved in exactly the same spot by the door as when he had previously spoken with Gandalf. His eyes were fixed on Bilbo and his expression expressed many things the hobbit couldn't quite decipher. But he somehow distinguished expectation which only made him frown in confusion. 'What's it he want me to... Oh. Obviously' – the hobbit thought to himself before hurrying into the building. He passed beside the dwarf king and feeling Thorin's gaze dig a hole into him,he tried hard not to blush. His cheeks felt oddly warm but he hoped the other didn't notice.

Bilbo felt stupid for acting this way and being unable to control his reactions. 'He probably hates me anyway,' – the hobbit thought sadly, reminding himself of the recent words of the dwarf for him, that had only suggested he wasn't welcome in the company.

The interior of the inn was simple. The floor was build with round stony tiles and the walls were covered with wood. The company was crowded in a narrow hall with a staircase on the far, left end and a corridor on the right. As Bilbo neared the dwarves he noticed a fat man behind the counter opposite from the entrance, looking at the noisy travellers with wide eyes. The dwarves were arguing over something Bilbo couldn't quite pinpoint because their loud voices melted into one stream of incomprehensible words. The innkeeper seemed to have the same problem as he stared at his potential clients in confusion. Suddenly a voice from behind the hobbit broke out above all the others. The harsh words, Bilbo couldn't understand , instantly brought the company to a relative order as they let their leader pass between them and near the counter to buy them quarters for the night.

Much to Thorin's discontent the bargaining with the innkeeper took a rather long while, but he finally gave in and offered them six standard rooms usually used by men but also decent for dwarves. When he spotted the hobbit he peered at him in wonder and saying something along the lines of "not having much visitors from the Shire anyway" suggested that Bilbo might get a hobbit sized room located on the ground level, assuring him it had all the comfort a halfling may require. When the man noticed Thorin's stern expression he mumbled something about the addition being free, and after receiving a few coins from the dwarf, handed him a bunch of keys and pointed to the nearby stairs. After the dwarves moved out of the way, Bilbo neared the innkeeper and took his own key. He thanked the man, glad he'd finally have a while for himself. The inn was definitely not as comfortable as his own home, but it was certainly better to have a room on his own rather than lose yet one more night of sleep in the quarters with snoring dwarves. It was probably his last opportunity to have a bit of comfort so Bilbo didn't complain at all about being separated from the rest.

After having left their bags in the rooms the dwarves went back downstairs and entered the common room, eager to finally eat a decent supper. They were soon joined by the burglar of the company.

Their spirits were much higher than on the road and even though dwarves are known for being almost immune to alcohol, the ale they drank in enormous amounts also seemed to take a part in fuelling their cheerfulness. Bilbo also looked as if he enjoyed himself, eating a full-sized meal and drinking his own pint of ale. After filling his stomach to its limit he felt tiredness pull down at his eyelids and excused himself, saying he'd turn in earlier.

Soon after the hobbit left the table, Thorin also stood up and without uttering a word exited the common room in a few strides. Some of the dwarves peered at him curiously but quickly shrugged it off, knowing their king tended to act distant with all the troubles he had. It was no wonder considering all that he'd come through.

The company spent the rest of the evening joking and drinking until the innkeeper cursed them for consuming all of his best stocks. Only then, when they run out of drink, most of them decided to go back to their rooms.

Fili stood from the table and looked at his brother who swayed slightly from side to side. He caught him before the younger one might fall, which only earned him a few giggles. He allowed Kili to sling his arm around his neck as they walked out of the common room.

Kili was leaning heavily on his brother as they climbed up the stairs and walked to their room. His hot breath tickled Fili's neck and made something in the older dwarf's insides twist, building a heat impossible to ignore in his whole body. They entered their room and Fili closed the door behind them, still keeping his brother in a relatively upward position. He took a step forward, planning to tuck Kili into his bed as fast as possible, knowing he couldn't stand to withhold the desires within him for much longer. It seemed a good plan until he was pushed against the hard wood of the door behind him and felt Kili's soft lips dancing against his own in a sloppy kiss.

He didn't know if it was for the alcohol or the long hidden frustration but the only thing he could do was kiss back.

...

Thorin's room was where Dwalin found his friend. The king was sitting on a simple stool before barely alight fire and sharpening his axe in a furiously fast, yet precise motions. The dim lighting and deep shadows in the room were the exact reflection of the state of his soul at the moment.

When he noticed his friend near him he halted his movements and slightly rose his eyebrows in question.

"Something on your mind," – Dwalin half-asked and half-stated.

Thorin stared at him as if in thought and answered rather dismissively, -"The quest," – and moved his gaze back to the weapon, resuming his previous movements. The air in the room vibrated with the high sound each time a sharpening stone scratched against the cold metal. It repeated itself again and again, in the same somewhat angry manner as before.

"Thorin!" – Dwalin roared with frustration, once again gaining the other's attention, - "There's something else."

Thorin only stared at him furrowing his brow.

"Cut it out and tell me."

The king glared to the side and after a long moment of silence spoke, – "The so-called burglar."

Dwalin looked a little taken aback.

"What of him?"

Thorin's gaze returned to his friend, his eyes filled with the reflection of the dim firelight.

"He shouldn't be here. The halfling is not even suited for simple travelling. And from now on the journey will only get harder. How will he face the dragon when he can't even handle a pony," – Thorin said harshly, before continuing in a lower and quieter voice – "He shall die for a cause that has nothing to do with him."

The dwarf looked back at his axe and after inspecting it put it against a nearby wall. He walked past Dwalin and stopped in front of the only window in the room. The king tilted his head backwards and locked his eyes onto the night sky.

"Then tell him to leave," – suggested Dwalin.

"I've already attempted that," – replied Thorin – "I made it clear he'll not be save with us. Yet he stubbornly stays. Why? It's plain visible he'd rather be in the comforts of his home."

Dwalin chuckled in a low manner and spoke – "If you **really** tried to tell him off he'd be long gone."

Thorin turned back to him, anger flashing in his eyes warningly. The other dwarf only smirked, used to his friend's grumpy behaviour.

"The wizard's not here. We'll just tell him the burglar got a little anxious and ran off." – said Dwalin and went to the door. He halted after opening it and turned back, – "Try harder this time," – he spoke in an almost playful voice and with that exited the king's room.

Thorin looked back at the sky. The dirty smudges on the glass blurred the stars and transformed the fluffly clouds washed in moonlight into shapes resembling brush strokes. The dwarf made his mind and stormed out of the door.

The inn was quiet, filled only with distant snores of the company and a few other travellers. When Thorin walked through the building, the only other sound in the corridor was his composed breathing and shuffling of his heavy boots.

The door to the halfling's room was bright yellow, standing out even in the gloom of the night. The dwarf stopped before it and knocked. As time was flowing by an no reply came, the dwarf got more and more irritated. Finally he pushed the door open, almost sure he must have mistaken the rooms in the dark.

Thorin stepped inside only to freeze when he saw a small figure curled under a fluffy duvet. He absent-mindedly closed the door behind him and walked up to the bed.

* * *

**AN:**** Well, what do you think? Please review. It really makes me write faster or at least gives me motivation.**

**I'm sorry if there were any mistakes but it's after midnight here and I'm seriously dying.**

**Anyway, some of you said you are not really in favour of Durincest in here, so I'll probably put the more 'disturbing' things about them in another story, as to not discourage you from reading this one.**

**The dismounting scene was inspired by my own experience. When I was a kid I also had problems with getting to the ground from a horse because most of them are quite big. I never actually fell while getting down, but had a few very close to falling situations. So I figured Bilbo might also have had problems with it at the beginning, considering he's probably never ridden before the journey.**

**I'll try to update faster than with this chapter, but frankly I'm not sure if I'll manage. Anyway I'll try to do my best!**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**Also if you have any suggestions, questions or critiques (and don't want to write them in the review) feel free to PM me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:**** Hello guys! I just want to tell you how much I LOVE YOU ALL for all the amazing reviews, favs, and follows! I even love those who lurk in the shadows and just "secretly" read this story. So here, have a hug *hugs* and a new chapter.**

**A little WARNING before you begin – there is a bit of Fili/Kili at the beginning (in case you want to skip that). But it's nothing M rated, so you don't really have to worry (if you don't like incest better skip anyway).**

**From now on, Randy's Dark Angel is the beta for this fic.**

**Now, enjoy the read ;)**

* * *

**..::Chapter IV – Unspoken Revelations::..**

Kili's lips felt warm against his own and Fili could not resist pulling his brother closer to himself and deepening the kiss. His mind was blank, registering only the sensations of the current happening and dismissing the rest of the world. He didn't think of **how**, or **why **this was happening as he tangled his fingers in the soft, dark waves and purred contently into Kili's mouth. The moment was more he could have ever imagined even though there were still flaws such as his shoulder-blades digging painfully into the hard wood of the door behind him or the heavy stench of alcohol around them. But for Fili it mattered not and the eager lips upon his own were the most perfect thing in the universe as long as they stayed there, sending jolts down his spine with each, even the smallest, movement.

They were gone too soon and he wanted to groan in frustration, but suddenly something heavy was on his shoulder and Fili fluttered his eyes open, not really remembering ever closing them, and saw a dark bundle of disarrayed hair taking refugee beside his neck. He felt warm breath upon his skin and couldn't hold back a gasp when something hot and wet slid against a spot just above a blood vessel, only to withdraw a second later.

The older brother panted heavily and clutched tighter at Kili's hair, desperate to prove to himself this was all for real. It seemed so amazing yet so impossible. Kili had never shown any signs beyond brotherly affections, that might have been the indication of reciprocation of those particular feelings. Yet the sensations running through him felt so much greater than even in Fili's boldest dreams and he was unable to think straight about the reasons behind the unexpected outcome of the evening.

Kili's body shook slightly as little giggle escaped him. He mumbled something incoherent against Fili's neck and then started laughing quietly again.

The older one frowned at him.

"You're drunk," – he stated matter of factly, but the meaning of the words started sinking in only after a while, giving Kili plenty of time to relocate his sloppy licking, nipping and giggling to Fili's earlobe.

Something unpleasant unknotted in the blonde's stomach at the realization that his brother was rather not aware of the meaning of his actions. He untangled his hands from the dark hair with hesitation, his fingers lingering for a second in the tickling waves, before pulling away completely.

He caught Kili by the shoulders and pushed him off himself, yet still held him, so that he wouldn't stumble in his drunken haze. The younger one uttered a whine of complaint and his head tilted a bit to a side. His dark orbs locked onto Fili's eyes and after a new fit of giggles, he grinned.

"Fee, why you swayin' so much," – he said sluggishly and a somehow concerned expression made its way onto his face, which made him look even more intoxicated, as it was mixed with the evident amusement.

Fili only sighed tiredly in response and began a trek through the room with the intent to put Kili into bed and get the whole situation over with as quickly as possible. The brunette tried to struggle, but his sudden outbursts of laughter and almost complete lack of balance, made the attempt fruitless. He fell onto the mattress and his body bounced limply, which only made Fili gulp loudly.

The blonde caught both of Kili's wrists and pinned them to the bed with his left hand and grabbed a folded duvet from the foot of the bed and tucked his younger brother in it. He held him through the thick material until Kili stopped squirming only to begin mumbling incoherent complaints.

"Sleep," – Fili ordered him and earned only a "don't wanna," in response. He groaned in frustration and without meaning to noticed how much heat had gathered in his insides since he pinned the brunette to the mattress. He quickly dismissed the thought and pushed himself off the bed, staring at his slightly trembling hands as he took a few shaky steps backward. His mind was suddenly assaulted by words speaking of how wrong what he felt for his brother was. Fili inhaled sharply, trying to compose himself, but to no avail. Only Kili's voice managed to get him out of the cold confines of his own thoughts.

"Are you angry with me, Fee?" – he asked, sounding truly worried and as innocent as the kid, Fili still could recall him being not that many years ago.

The older one frowned at Kili's failed attempt to lift himself off the bed and after a while of consideration spoke in a weary tone – "Of course not, Kee ."

He stared to the side, trying to calm his wildly beating heart. He knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he somehow managed to make the whirlwind of feelings inside him go away, so he did the only reasonable thing at the moment.

"Get some sleep," – he told Kili with a little forced smile, then turned on his heel and left the room.

He pulled the door closed and leaned his back against it. A soft sigh of relief escaped him and he let his eyelids fall closed. It didn't last long until he could no longer hear Kili's whines but only soft snores, muffled by the wooden door.

The silence in the corridor, disturbed by only a few distant sounds, and mixed with the blackness under his eyelids, set his mind on alert so that the rest of his senses became overly sensitive. Fili could almost feel the traces his brother had made on his skin, and smell his unique scent, reminding him of home, mixed with alcohol. His tongue felt too thick in his mouth as he was sure there was a bit of the brunette's taste remaining there. His mind replayed the events of the evening over and over again, tempting the dwarf to return to the room and fulfil his unnatural, as he would describe them, desires.

Fili shook his head and opened his eyes widely, trying to get the intruding images out of his head. He really hadn't meant all of that to happen, but at the moment there was no denying what had taken place. The dwarf could only hope his brother would not remember it the next day.

He pushed himself off the door, knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was near Kili any time soon. Fili went down the corridor, all the while drowning in regret and self-loathing, and with no particular direction in mind descended the stairs absent-mindedly.

When there were only three steps left, separating him from the ground floor, suddenly a clear sound of a rather close knocking filled the air and Fili had to brace himself on the railing not to stumble, as he was unexpectedly thrown out of his thoughts. His ears filled with an annoying ringing after the sudden interruption of the silence. The dwarf waited for a while, until the strange sensation disappeared, and when he didn't hear any more noise, he went down the remaining stairs and peered curiously into the corridor across the hall.

In the vague light of the moon from the window on the far end of the building he made out a silhouette of his uncle in front of one of the doors. Fili frowned at that, recalling that only Bilbo had taken a room downstairs. He wondered what Thorin was doing there in the middle of the night but before he could take any action the dwarf puffed, which sounded very much irritated, and opened the door before disappearing inside.

Fili instantly thought how much Kili would be excited at the prospect of "spying" their uncle and how he would develop all the probable (and improbable) scenarios of what was happening in the hobbit's room. His expression turned into an almost amused one, but then he remembered what had occurred between them and his face fell at the realization that his brother may never again want to laugh with him.

Sadness flowed over him and he turned resignedly and walked to the entrance of the inn with intent to get some air and clear his mind. He put a hand into one of the pockets of his tunic and when it met with delicate wood, Fili was grateful for at least one thing – he didn't leave his pipe it the room upstairs.

…

Thorin neared the bed slowly, as if with caution not to wake the hobbit, even though he intended to speak with him, for there seemed that there was something thick in the air, making his movements sluggish. He had no real plan in mind, but assumed the halfling, being the most vulnerable of the whole company and the one most keen on hot hearth and soft sheets, wouldn't be that hard to convince to go back to his home. He at least had the privilege of having his own place he could return to. Not like the dwarves, who despite living in the Ered Luin for many decades still found their eyes turning eastward far too often to call their new halls "home". Thorin sighed wearily and stopped on the right side of the bed. He pushed the plaguing thoughts of the obligations to once and for all end the exile of his people into a farther corner of his mind for the first time in many weeks. He looked down at Bilbo and finally took his time to study the hobbit's features thoroughly.

A soft, milk-coloured light was falling through the only window in the room and onto the hobbit's face, making it look disturbingly pale. Yet there was no reason to assume something was wrong with him, since his chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm and his face was adorned with an expression of contentment Thorin had never seen there.

It was quite obvious the hobbit valued comfort over other things and the dwarf could not grasp his reasoning for agreeing to the wizard's idea to join the company. He couldn't also suppress the feeling of slight jealousy rising in his chest. It was beyond unfair that hobbits had their land safe even though they were no warriors. They didn't have to put any effort into protecting their homes, for there was no threat for them. The dwarf king felt hollow inside as he thought of his family – his sister and his nephews, for whom he wasn't able to give real home and steady life, of his brother, who had died by his side in a battle long decades ago, and of all his people who had to work for men to survive, even though they were the finest of craftsmen.

He focused his gaze on Bilbo's face, which was so very different from his kin. The hobbit's skin looked soft, too much as for male, and there was not even the slightest hint of facial hair there. Thorin knew it wasn't only the hobbit's face that was so fragile, since he could still remember the feeling of Bilbo's arms in his grasp, when he had pushed him against a tree trunk to intimidate him. The moment this soft body had collided with the hard surface the dwarf had felt an acute and completely unexpected apprehension at damaging the small being, but he hadn't let it show. He hardly ever let any of his emotions display on his face. But with the hobbit he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hide all of the things running through his mind. Fortunately the fear had passed as quickly as it had appeared.

In his sleep Bilbo looked even more innocent than normally and Thorin felt bitter for knowing his nephews would never have such peaceful expression, for the hard conditions they had been risen up in. Even though they acted tough he knew of the nightmares that plagued them. But there was nothing he could do to bring the warm glee to their eyes. At least not until they reclaimed their homeland.

Yet the dwarves were very protective and possesive of everything they considered beautiful and the look on Bilbo's face was one of those things that to Thorin's utter annoyance brought the sudden urge to protect the hobbit and not allow any damage to come to him. And the best way to do that and not condemn their quest to failure was for the halfling to avoid getting in the harm's way by returning home. He would never admit it to anyone but the halfling, even despite his differences from the dwarves, brought a long forgotten emotion to the king. It was a simple warmth that resembled the one he had felt in his early years in Erebor, when he had known he was home. He didn't know why, but he felt, deep inside, that he couldn't let Bilbo go with them, or else something might happen to him and the hobbit would never return home. Thorin couldn't believe himself, but the prospect brought him even more dread than the fact that without a burglar they had almost no chances of reclaiming Erebor.

Being a prince and a leader for his long life and having to control his emotions, he managed to shrug the feeling off before it could build firm roots into his mind.

Thorin reached his hand to the hobbit's shoulder with the intent to wake him up, but on his way there his knuckles accidentally brushed the silky hair and the dwarf froze at the feeling that run through him. It was sudden and strangely calming, and he couldn't help but let his fingertips gently run along the strange patterns the blonde curls curved into around the hobbit's face and neck, that were completely different from the intricate sharp shapes Thorin could remember adorning his forefathers' halls.

The dwarf composed himself quickly and withdrew his fingers. This whole thing was turning out to be even more difficult than he thought and he hadn't even said a word to the hobbit yet. He turned away from the bed and brought a hand to his face before rubbing his fingers against the heavy frown that had somehow made its way onto his face. Thorin groaned quietly in frustration and looked back to the halfling, noticing he had hugged the duvet closer to himself while the dwarf had been facing away. The sight was quite a heart-warming one, but for the dwarf it was one more proof of how fragile their burglar was. And to think that the old wizard would choose someone like that. Bilbo was the exact opposite of who they needed for the job and if there had been any doubts in Thorin's mind about dismissing the hobbit, then there were none left.

This time he didn't halt his hand and placed it firmly against the hobbit's shoulder before shaking him slightly. The smaller one opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times before his gaze found the dwarf king. He furrowed his brows and stared at the other male for a long while. One of his hands suddenly emerged from the warm confines of the bed covers and rose to the hobbit's face before rubbing at his eyes as if he tried to erase something, that had fallen onto his orbs, from his field of vision. He blinked several more times after that and his expression changed to a completely confused one.

"Thorin..?" – he asked unsurely in a voice hoarse from the sleep.

"We need to speak," – the dwarf informed him, ignoring the question as if it was nothing out of ordinary to have the heir of the throne of Erebor in one's room in the middle of night.

Bilbo shuffled a bit under the covers and sat up. After glancing briefly at Thorin he pulled the duvet more firmly around himself and up to his chin. He felt his cheeks warm up at the way the dwarf's eyes shone in the darkness, which only caused the other's eyebrow to shot up and the intensity of his gaze to grow even more burning.

The hobbit heard a loud sound of gulping and only after a while realized it was himself, which only caused him to bury the lower half of his face in the covers around him. He was definitely not used to having someone at his bedside at night, and especially not a person whose mere sight could make his insides clench and his heartbeat speed up, so much it drummed in his ears and made him fear the other could hear it too. But worse than Thorin's presence was his unwavering gaze.

Bilbo found the dwarf's eyes intriguing. He had once heard that eyes were a window of one's soul and even though he had never given it much thought it turned out to be true in Thorin's case. The leader of the company was apparently very experienced in hiding his emotions (obviously except for anger and such) and managed to keep his steady stance at all times, but whenever Bilbo met his eyes he saw things he would never had thought the sturdy dwarf king might feel. He couldn't decipher them all, of course. He was only able to name one or two, and even of those he wasn't sure. Yet there was one thing the little hobbit was definitely certain of. There was more to Thorin than met the eye, and he suspected this 'more' might be **a lot** more and as surprising as the fact that he had joined the company aiming to reclaim a mountain from a dragon, and didn't think of running off any time soon.

As lost as he was in the dwarf's orbs Bilbo noticed the hardening of his gaze only after his own thoughts had cleared a bit. He tried to pinpoint the rough emotion connected with the change and realized it was actually expectation. He hadn't even acknowledged the leader's request for having a word with him. But he couldn't blame himself, could he? It was, after all, the middle of the blasted night.

"Okay," – Bilbo finally replied in a weak voice and resisted the urge to yawn.

Thorin glanced to the side, like if searching for suitable words, and when he looked at the hobbit again there was such determination in those eyes, Bilbo absently curled a bit tighter in the safety of the warm duvet. The words that escaped the dwarf's lips next were completely unexpected.

"I want you to leave, and do so right now."

Bilbo only gaped at him, his mouth falling slightly open.

"I'll have you know, this room is actually mine," – said the hobbit, becoming quite irritated with Thorin's manners. It was unacceptable to stroll into one's bedroom without permission, and what's more, order that person to leave. Back in the Shire the dwarf king would probably be regarded as a complete lowbrow - Bilbo thought. A smile ghosted over his face for a second, at the image of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins scowling at Thorin for his disgraceful behaviour.

The dwarf first frowned in reply and then, when he saw Bilbo's smile, his mood worsened even more than usually.

"Does this amuse you, halfling?!" – he roared at the poor hobbit who jumped in surprise and accidentally released the material covering him.

Thorin's eyes darted to where Bilbo's sleeping-robe slid a bit, revealing his shoulder. The skin there was white in the pale moonlight, but coloured into a rosy shade the longer he looked at it. It was then that the dwarf also noticed just **how** frail the hobbit's form was in comparison to his kin.

His eyes lingered there just a mere second too long, somewhat softening his enraged expression, but it was enough to once again set Bilbo's face on fire. He pulled the unruly clothes, into their destined place, completely forgetting about the duvet discarded carelessly over his legs. Before he could even attempt to glare at Thorin for staring, the dwarf spoke, yet in a more controlled and but still commanding tone, – "What's the reason for your reddened complexion? If you're subject to an illness, it's yet one more cause for you to leave **this company**," – he stressed the last two words more than the rest, as if to make sure Bilbo would understand him correctly this time.

At first Bilbo started fidgeting with his sleeve, anxious his "fondness" of Thorin was discovered, but when it turned out that wasn't actually the case, his eyes widened and he stared at the dwarf as if he had just told a not really amusing joke. "Why should I go back when we had already left the Shire? It doesn't make any sense. Why did you take me if you don't want me here?" – the hobbit replied a bit angrily.

"We need a burglar and the wizard insisted," – Thorin answered, – "but you already are more of a burden than any help. Not only aren't you suited for the job but you can't even do anything without assistance of the others. We have no use for a deadweight," – the dwarf's voice grew harsher and harsher with each word. But, even though Bilbo encircled his form with his hands, slumped his shoulders and looked helplessly to the side, something Tookish sparked in his eyes and made him determined to disagree with the leader of the company, despite the fact he was well aware of his uselessness to the dwarves' cause.

"And what if I decide to stay?" – he asked timidly.

"What?!" – Thorin looked taken aback, - "This is not your quest! Not your cause to risk your life for!"

Bilbo relaxed the hands he had wrapped around himself and looked up, surprised, at the dwarf.

"Are you... Are you concerned about **me**?" – he asked in a quiet voice.

Thorin's intense gaze and the silence that followed was more of an answer than Bilbo might had hoped for.

However, before any of them could somehow react to the odd development there was a tentative knock at the door.

"Uhm...Who's there?" – the hobbit enquired, loud enough for the knocking one to hear.

"It's Gandalf. Bilbo, is Thorin there?"

The hobbit glanced at the dwarf and noticed a gruff expression on his face.

"Um...Yes, he's here," – he replied – "You can enter," – he added.

The wizard didn't need any more invitations and strode into the room, his grey robe floating behind him.

"Fili told me I'd find you here," – he addressed Thorin, – "What did you discuss with Mr. Baggins to make him look so distressed?" – Gandalf glanced at the hobbit, and Bilbo could swear there was a flickering mirth behind his eyes. And he had a vague feeling the wizard knew about the reasons behind his blushed cheeks.

"It's none of your concern," – said Thorin in a harsh voice and crossed his arms over his chest.

The wizard only sighed and muttered something about the stubbornness of dwarves, Bilbo could not quite make out. He then turned to the hobbit and a warm smile warmed up his features.

"Go to sleep, Bilbo. There are lots of miles to cover for us tomorrow. And Thorin," – he turned to the dwarf – "I've discovered a few important matters concerning the further journey. Apparently there have been orcs seen on the main road and I believe we'll have to alter our route."

Thorin nodded in reply and Gandalf took it as a sign to leave the hobbit's room and relocate the discussion with the dwarf to another place. He walked to the door in three long steps and opened them. Thorin hesitated at first but after muttering something in the dwarf-language, which Bilbo did not understand one bit, he followed the wizard and disappeared in the gloom of the corridor.

Just before the door closed Bilbo caught a glimpse of the wizard's face and he was almost sure the elderly man winked at him! So he must know for sure – the hobbit thought helplessly, before burying himself under the warm duvet.

He tried to fall asleep but to no avail, as it turned out. The thoughts of all that had happened would simply not leave him alone. Blasted dwarves! – Bilbo grumbled under his breath and pushed his face into the pillow to muffle the annoyed groan that escaped his lips.

...

Bilbo woke up to knocking and before he even had a chance to rub his sleepy eyes the door were swung open revealing Fili. The young dwarf's eyes had a slight red tinge to them and looked like if they were kept open with utmost effort. His entrance to the room was accompanied with a loud yawn, which only confirmed the hobbit's suspicions of Fili's lack of sleep last night, which was rather abnormal, since they were in an inn. But who could be sure with the dwarves. They were by far the most strange race Bilbo had met. Yet before he could voice his questions the blonde announced the company would be leaving in an hour and that Gandalf had told him to hurry if Bilbo wanted to have at least a chance to eat breakfast.

"Isn't it a bit early?" – the hobbit asked with a groan as he looked through the window and could make out only gloom.

"Uncle's orders" – the dwarf replied with a shrug and left the room mumbling about waking the others in-between yawns.

It left Bilbo frowning and wondering if he had accidentally mistook Fili with someone else. For wasn't it always the young brothers who complained the loudest about getting up at the first light in the morning, or in this case even before?

Yet the hobbit didn't ponder on the matter much. There was, after all, a breakfast to attend to.

...

Before Bilbo could fully wake up and take in all that was going on around him he was already on his pony and they were leaving the town. There wasn't such a fuss as with their coming, because the moment they rode through the main gate and onto the road surrounded by fragrant fields the sun was barely peeking from behind the horizon. The morning air was chilly and wet against his skin, due to heavy fog floating like a sea all around them.

When they left the Bree behind them and the sun rose high enough for the light to reach the terrains around them, Bilbo forgot about his complaints and to his own surprise appreciated the early hour Thorin had chosen to set out on further journey.

The sight was literally breath-taking and Bilbo forgot how to breathe for a moment when he first caught a glimpse of the scorching red light piercing the milky fog, so that it started swirling and dissipating, revealing the cloudy forms behind it, coloured into uncountable number of shades from grey, through creamy yellow, up to orange and haematic. There was something almost enchanting in the manner way the nature reacted to the upcoming day. It resembled a bird taking its first flight and delighting in the way the wind brushed under its feathers, lifting it far into the azure abyss. The sight woke something in Bilbo, bringing back long-forgotten memories of the times when, as a small lad, he'd wake up before the sun and run out of his home to greet it and chase after the fogs, he'd been sure were the veil the elves hide behind.

It didn't last long and a few moments later the air returned to its usual, transparent form and the hobbit found his mind returning to the current events and problems. After a short while of letting his thoughts wander freely he remembered the strange talk he'd with Thorin the previous night. The dwarf's behaviour and his words didn't make any sense at all. Why would he treat me so harshly if he was concerned – Bilbo thought, frowning a little and trying to imagine what reasons might have pushed Thorin to act the way he did.

But before he even managed to sort all the little pieces of information he had about the dwarf he caught sight of Gandalf's merry expression beside him and suspected the wizard knew exactly what he was pondering on.

The day passed quickly, with companionable conversations filling the long hours spent on the road. They stopped only once for a short and completely unsatisfactory dinner, and by the time they halted to make camp Bilbo was painfully reminded how much riding wasn't his favourite activity, judging by his aching backside.

He quickly got off his pony and tried to find a suitable place to put his belongings, but the dwarves were already bustling around and he barely managed to avoid bumping into the large pot Bombur and Bifur were carrying, and tripping on the few branches that fell from the huge pile of wood Kili was running around with. Also a stone thrown from Ori's slingshot flew right before his face and soon was followed with the young one's flow of apologies and Dwalin's barking laughter. Apparently the warrior had been watching the other dwarf showing off his skills, and now the poor scribe was left blushing and looking anywhere but at the much taller warrior. Bilbo, even though a bit irritated, assured him he was fine and left the two of them. He heaved a sigh of relief when he managed to sneak out of the mass of the dwarves and finally found an unoccupied spot below one of the large trees on the side of the glade they had stopped on.

The heavy bag with his things fell onto the grass with a muffled thud as the hobbit relieved his shoulders from the burden. He leaned heavily against the rough trunk behind him and let his mind, as well as his eyes, roam free.

There was a faint ribbon of smoke coming from between the crowd of bodies, which meant the dwarves had already started making fire. Bilbo felt his stomach growl at the promise of upcoming supper and his mouth quickly became moist with saliva when his imagination started filling with various images of food.

Yet soon, with the way one's mind can be as unpredictable as the course of his life, the hobbit's thoughts started flowing into a completely different direction. He only did realize that, when he was caught staring by the fierce and strikingly blue orbs from across the glade. He mentally slapped himself for not controlling his own gaze.

Thorin's eyes held the strong determination of a leader in them, and despite the protests of Bilbo's rational mind he couldn't help himself but let his tongue flick out of his mouth and quickly lick his lips. Which was certainly caused ONLY by his previous thoughts of food.

The dwarf glanced briefly at the movement and Bilbo had to stop himself from imagining that something had flickered in the stormy eyes. It wouldn't do to develop naïve hope where there were only chances for the leader of the company to dislike him even more if possible.

The hobbit felt hot flames of annoyance start to burn his insides as he realized that the dwarf was glaring at him, with the fire burning in his irises.

He tried to look away but to his own surprise his own determination to prove himself to be worth of being a part of Thorin's company grew firmer with each second and left Bilbo glaring back with equal fierceness as the dwarf. However, soon, the gentleness, ordinary amongst hobbits, took over and he looked away. Yet, the desire to not be looked down upon didn't abandon him, and when he glanced back at where Thorin had just been and didn't catch sight of him, Bilbo looked up to the sky with a sigh.

There were barely any stars visible since the sun had just hidden behind the horizon, painting the space above the Middle-Earth in its creamy afterglow, but the clear white light of the brightest star was already sailing high on the eternal waters. The hobbit suddenly remembered a tale his mother had told him about it, the tale of a fair elf, with the most beautiful of jewels shining vividly in the darkness, and travelling across the sky to bring hope upon the creatures of the world. Eärendil, that was his name.

He could recall a time in his youth when every night he'd go look up on the star and voice his dream of adventuring, after his mother had told him that elves wished upon its light and sometimes their prayers were answered.

With the white point of Eärendil dancing gracefully in his eyes, Bilbo felt the strange desire to be truly part of the company rise up within him as much as never before. It was like if he was meant to stay, as if he was needed for future deeds, yet not unveiled. So he did the only thing that came to mind.

The hobbit wished upon the star to become something more for the group of dwarves without their home. And despite his previous reluctance to even accompany the strange fellows, he vowed he'd do all in his power to help them. And he did so on the brightest of lights.

...

With vows and wishes being poetic and exquisite, yet not very useful, Bilbo decided there was no point in waiting for a miracle to strike him and decided to take matters into his own hands. And what better way to start than with the small things?

It was by this trail of thoughts that he found himself walking up to Balin, who was walking through the camp with a pile of empty waterbags clutched to his chest. Usually the dwarf would be accompanied by his brother, but at that moment the other seemed occupied with talking with the young scribe of the company.

"May I be of help?" – the hobbit asked politely.

"Why of course, Master Baggins," – the old dwarf replied and handed Bilbo a few of the waterbags.

They strolled to a nearby stream in companionable silence and started filling the containers once they got to their destination. At one point Balin had to tuck his beard under the folds of his cloths to prevent it from getting wet and it made Bilbo wonder.

"Isn't it a bit uncomfortable with such a long beard?" – he inquired, and after Balin looked at him with surprise, he added, - "Wouldn't it be easier for most dwarves to just keep them shorter?"

Balin's eyes widened in shock, but soon his features softened.

"You don't know much about dwarven culture, do you laddie?"

When Bilbo shook his head lightly, he continued, - "You see, beards are of great value to us. They are a matter of honour and one's social status. No dwarf would ever shorten his beard without a great reason."

The hobbit nodded and after a while of thought asked, - "And what about Kili? He doesn't exactly have a beard."

Balin chuckled lightly at that, the sound warm and welcoming.

"Aye, you're right. But he's still very young as for a dwarf. It had barely started growing."

Bilbo nodded, smiling at the concept of older Kili with a beard as long as Balin's. He filled the last of the waterbags and couldn't stop himself from speaking again, - "And what about Thorin?"

The white-haired dwarf's smile disappeared almost instantly and his face filled with sadness.

"Let's go back. The food must be ready by now." – And with that he started retreating back to the camp.

Bilbo stood on the bank of the stream taken aback for a second, before, he too, took the remaining waterbags and directed his steps towards the company.

* * *

**AN:**** I'm really SORRY it took me so long to update but I had a nasty writer's block. I hope you can understand.**

**Anyway, I know Thorin's attitude towards Bilbo is a bit different here than in the canon, but I really need him to be like that for the sake of the future chapters that are gonna be almost completely AU. If it disturbs you or anything just write me a note and I'll try to explain myself more thoroughly.**

**Also, I had quite a problem with writing this chapter. The characters just wouldn't act the way I wanted them to. So please, let me know what you think. **

**That's it. Thank you for reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:**Not yet beta-read.

* * *

**..::Chapter 5 – I Can't Tell You The Truth::..**

It was one of the most tedious days on the road since leaving Ered Luin. Actually, it was the most boring day ever - Kili thought to himself before yawning loudly.

The bowl of soup in his lap was getting cooler but he didn't feel like eating. Not with the way his brother was avoiding him the whole day. He noticed Ori looking at him quizzically from across the fire but chose to ignore him and turned his face in another direction with a pout.

The camp was filled with quiet sounds of talking, since even the rowdy dwarves, being the sturdy ones amongst other races, were quite exhausted due to the unmerciful pace Thorin had set, and weren't in the mood for making racket. Yet, the occasional laughs reverberated in Kili's head like silence would, leaving behind dull numbness. Where laughter and joy had always been, now remained silence and an empty seat.

The young dwarf put down his bowl, aware that even though he was utterly starved after the harsh day, he wouldn't be able to eat anything.

He waited, squirming with boredom and plucking at the grass beside him until the company finally finished the meal. His eyes sought Fili where he had earlier seen him and indeed still was, standing on the edge between the merry dancing light of the fire and the dark shadows of the night. Kili noticed the way his brother's shoulders were slouched, like if he was carrying a great burden. He couldn't see his face, since the dwarf was turned away from the camp, but was sure Fili's expression had to be burdened as well. This was not at all normal and, even though others didn't seem to notice anything was off, Kili just knew it was something serious. Why else wouldn't Fili just confide his problems in him?

Kili rose from his point by the fire and headed for where his brother was. When he was halfway there a particularly alarming thing occurred to him. What if Fili simply didn't trust him anymore? Kili couldn't imagine that to be the case, he didn't want to believe such a thing. All his life they were inseparable. Where one was, the other would undoubtedly follow. They had shared all their joys and sad moments. Kili just didn't know any other way for things to be and he didn't want to be acquainted with one.

He reached his hand for his brother and for the first time since the beginning of their journey his eyes didn't shine with mischief, but only with genuine concern.

Through the buzz of thoughts in his head he didn't even realize he was holding his breath.

Fili almost jumped when he felt a hand at his shoulder. He didn't have time to process what was going on, for a second later his vision was filled with the worried face of his brother.

"Fee?" – Kili's eyes shone with the faint light of the fire reflected in them and Fili couldn't stop the memories of his much younger brother looking up to him with those dark orbs. There had always been such trust in them, and Fili felt his insides knot painfully at the realization he had betrayed that trust. He should have stopped Kili's attempts at kissing him right from the beginning, yet he had let those foolish feelings take over and even encouraged his brother by pulling him closer. It had been completely indecent of him to do so when Kili was incoherent from the alcohol, but even despite that he couldn't deny he had enjoyed it and desperately carved for more. The thought of Thorin getting to know of this and casting him away from everything he held dear in his life made him dizzy. But the painful pang to his heart came at the image of Kili despising him for his wicked nature. If he knew, if he remembered- Mahal, if he remembered-

"Fili, are you alright?" – Kili's voice was missing its usual lightness and instead was laced with concern.

Fili blinked in surprise at being pulled out of his thoughts.

"I- I just got a bit carried away with the pipe," – he said, reluctantly turning his gaze away from Kili's lovely face.

He put the pipe to his lips and inhaled sharply – to calm his racing heart and prove his point.

Kili frowned. It was very unusual for Fili to behave this way towards him. They've always been so straight-forward with each other, and now to have his brother withdraw from that openness, which Kili took for granted, was more disturbing than any misunderstanding between them before. There had to be a distinct reason for Fili to so suddenly back away. Or maybe, it was just something that had been troubling his brother for a long while and Kili simply hadn't paid enough attention to notice that something was off.

"I can see it, you know," – Kili said, and that got him Fili's full attention. Yet there was an emotion on his face that Kili didn't want to label. It was enough that his brother had withdrawn, but to have him apprehensive was too much.

"It's not alright, is it?" – he asked with worry trembling his voice. When did his emotions started affecting him that much? Never mind-

"I-," – Fili began, but was interrupted by Thorin's commanding tone.

"Everyone, get some rest. We leave at first light of the morning," – he said to the whole company. Then he turned towards his nephews, - "Fili, Kili, you shall take the first watch."

Fili's eyes widened and he wanted to protest but stopped himself soon enough. In normal circumstances Thorin would be disappointed at least, but now, with his especially sour mood, there was no telling what he might do. The young dwarf had enough problems without that.

One of them being the inevitable questions of his brother.

…

Bilbo had problems sleeping that night. He would wake up every once in a while with no memories of dreams in his mind, yet with his body stiff from laying on the hard ground. His bedroll was no comparison to the warm, soft bed he had in Bree, so he had problems falling back into slumber as well.

It was no surprise when he woke up and the sky above was already brightening, but the camp was enveloped in silence (save for the dwarves' snores). According to Thorin's words the previous day it wouldn't be long before they left.

Bilbo rose to a sitting position and stretched, wincing at the stiffness in his back. He missed the Shire and his lovely Bag End with his whole heart. It felt like if he was thousands miles from his home, yet knew it might take mere days to be back. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to return at this point.

Sure, it would be definitely more comfortable and safer, but he'd lose probably the only opportunity to experience so many things yet unknown to him. And he'd lose his new-found friends. He hasn't even seen the elves or the mountains, but here he was, with thoughts of going back swirling around his head.

The hobbit rubbed at his sleepy eyes and shook his head. He wouldn't retreat now. It hasn't even been a day since he had made the resolution to try his hardest to be helpful to the company. He wouldn't be a Baggins if he gave up at this point.

But there was still Thorin. Bilbo didn't know what to think about the dwarf. He definitely didn't hold the hobbit in high regards and it looked like if he wanted to get rid of him. Yet Bilbo couldn't help but feel some kind of pull towards him. It was strange considering all the negative features Thorin had presented him during their short acquaintance. Things such as arrogance, stubbornness or disdain shouldn't allure him, yet, even if he wanted, he couldn't stop the emotions from surging in him. It was like if a part of himself knew or noticed something he didn't.

"No need to ponder on that now," – Bilbo thought to himself before standing. He was going to occupy his time in more useful ways than sitting and thinking.

All in the camp were asleep, except for Dwalin who was keeping watch. When he noticed Bilbo stand up, he somehow reluctantly turned his head towards him and nodded barely as in greeting. The hobbit didn't have a chance to reply, because the dwarf instantly turned his attention elsewhere, staring pointedly into thin air. Bilbo couldn't help but wonder if Dwalin's coldness was due to lack of sleep or what Thorin might have told him.

He looked around and deciding he was not yet needed in the camp, headed towards the nearby stream to at least clean the last bits of sleep from beneath his eyelids.

The surrounding terrain was flat, covered with different kinds of trees here and there. Bilbo could hear no disturbing sounds around him, only distant chirping of birds and buzzing of bees somewhere in the crown of one of the trees he had passed, so he stepped ahead confidently and let his mind wander towards his cosy kitchen in the Bag End.

In mere minutes his ears caught the gently jingling sound of flowing water and he quickly caught sight of the thick bushes, behind which he had filled the water bags with Balin the previous evening. He turned right, remembering how they had found the stream, and managed to follow the same path leading around the greenery.

He finally come to a halt on the bank where he buried his toes in the soft grass beneath his feet. It wasn't as green or as pleasant to the touch as in the Shire, but it still felt comforting. Bilbo enjoyed it for a while, not yet aware how much he'd miss this small thing in the darker days yet to come.

He was quickly done cleaning his face and had already turned to go back when he heard a sound of splashing. At first he thought he had just imagined it but then he heard it again. It came from the place where the stream wriggled to the left, only to hide behind the bushes. Bilbo felt his heartbeat quicken. He had a feeling he shouldn't be doing this but the curiosity had already gotten the better of him.

Being a hobbit, it was quite easy for him to sneak closer without being discovered. He crouched behind the bushes and took a deep breath before gaining enough courage to rise his head and take a peek at what was making the splashing sounds.

Bilbo was caught completely off guard at the sight he was met with. He couldn't tear his eyes from what he was seeing, nor could he believe it.

At the same time it confused him and saddened to the core.

...

"Could you both keep it quiet? I'm trying to sleep here!" – Nori scolded the brothers, who were supposed to keep the watch, in an annoyed tone.

"Sorry, " – Fili answered apologetically before looking back at Kili, -"I told you, not now."

The dark haired dwarf made a discontent face, but seeing Fili was clearly not in the mood, he sighed resignedly in defeat. He'd try a different approach to get the answers from his brother, than threatening him with tickles. Fili definitely needed his help and to be able to do that every way was worth a try.

Soon enough everybody in the camp gave in to sleep and the air around the brothers thickened, as with anticipation. They sat close to each other, facing the slowly evening out light of the fire, but in such a proximity from themselves as if they were subconsciously trying to avoid touching the other. Which they achieved.

Fili couldn't help but feel it was all his fault. The strings he had with his brother were now broken and he had no idea what to do. The worst was the fear consuming him from the inside, at the thought that they could never regain what they'd had before.

The silent atmosphere between them became unbearably uncomfortable and the blond felt it was his obligation to somehow find a way out of the situation. He'd have to be sincere with Kili. Maybe it would take a while of walking around the topic but he had to muster the courage to finally get it over with. They couldn't spend their whole lives sulking. And maybe, just maybe, what Kili did the previous day was genuine.

Fili didn't dare hope, but if that was true, it would be his boldest dream come true.

The dwarf took a deep breath to speak, and realizing his heart was beating like crazy opened his mouth.

"Is it about yesterday?" – Kili asked him first. Fili turned his head and noticed his brother was staring into the flames and poking them with a stick, completely unaware of his distressed state.

He struggled to find the right words and deciding to take a more neutral stance, than get straight to the point. It would be better to first check where they were standing in this situation, rather than instantly leap into confessions. Nonetheless he felt empty with the awareness that he may never be granted what his heart so strongly desired and may even loose what fragile bits of brotherly bond he still had with Kili.

"You don't remember yesterday?"

"Of course I do! We rode so very long and got bored so I borrowed Ori's notebook while you were distracting him. And the things that were there," – Kili chuckled at that and Fili couldn't stop a small smile from warming his face up – "It's a shame you couldn't see it. If only Master Dwalin hadn't noticed. But anyway, then we went to Bree and to that inn with a pony sign. Where we noticed, once again, Bilbo swooning over uncle. Which is quite funny in itself, considering how uncle tries to act completely uninterested. But well. We had a few pints of ale, which was rather good but the way. Oh and I threw some of that awful food, which I still haven't figured out what was, into Bofur's hair and he didn't seem to realize that," - Kili was grinning by now, his cheerful expression an anchor for Fili to hold onto.

"Afterwards, I think you had a problem with walking straight, so we went to our room together and then-" – Kili paused and Fili held his eyes locked on him, feeling the pounding of his heart in his ears. The blond noticed his brother's eyes widen, like if in realization, but it was so subtle it might have been a trick of the light as well.

"Have I done... something then?" – Kili asked in a quiet voice, so unlike himself.

Fili had no idea how to react. If Kili had just remembered what he had done and was this- this insecure about it, what would happen if Fili told him the whole truth?

Kili's eyes were now pointed at him, warm, rich brown colour swirling with the golden light of the fire, digging a hole into Fili's soul. The older brother felt sudden fear explode within him almost trembling his body.

"You- You were snoring and I couldn't stand it so I left. And well, I'm a bit sleep deprived. Maybe I was unbearable today because of that." - Fili replied with a goofy smile, absently scratching the back of his neck. As fast as those words escaped him he felt it was a very bad idea of him to lie. But he couldn't turn back now.

Kili's eyebrows shot up and a tiny frown appeared between them. Soon, however it turned into a small smile, enriching the dwarf's face.

"Right," – he said, as if wanting to assure his brother he believed him. And his gaze, always filled with such curiosity peculiar only for him, added to that impression.

Fili felt a cold string of guilt tangle his insides in a tight knot, when Kili turned his eyes back towards the light. His shoulders lowered just a tiny bit letting a strand of the dark hair fall loose onto his face. He didn't seem to notice, but the blond felt a sudden urge to tuck it gently back behind his ear. Of course he stopped himself and turned his gaze downward – to avoid getting more of those thoughts.

"I have an idea!" – Kili abruptly perked up and Fili glanced at him surprised.

He leaned towards the blonde, who froze at such a close proximity, and whispered in his ear – "Let's help Bilbo with uncle."

When he pulled back and grinned somewhat stupidly Fili's mood brightened up as well and he answered with a smirk – "When do we start?"

Perhaps their brotherly bond couldn't be broken that easily.

...

The company moved out in the early morning, when the sun was barely peeking from behind the horizon, and continued on their way eastward. The days seemed to stretch into forever with the monotonous landscape looking suspiciously the same at the start and the end of each day. But, soon enough it changed and Bilbo started wishing it didn't.

The fifth day after leaving Bree they saw seemingly endless marshes stretch on the left of the road. It wouldn't be that bad if it was only for the slightly disturbing smell. But there was also another disadvantage.

The mosquitoes were everywhere. Their buzzing was a constant reminder of that fact. After three days it took them to leave the marshes behind, all in the company were grumpy beyond their limits, it seemed. Only the ones wearing more heavy clothes could feel lucky to have avoided being a nutrition to the irritating insects. Unfortunately, Bilbo was not one of them and spent almost the whole next week scratching all the bites and grumbling.

Considering the unexpected and not entirely welcome developments Bilbo also couldn't help but notice the rapid change in behaviour of Thorin's nephews towards him. They started teasing him about even the smallest things and he often caught sight of them glancing at him, whispering and giggling about Eru knows what. And Gandalf, who Bilbo had hoped would be some help while amongst all the dwarves, sometimes looked at him meaningfully, with the kind of stare filled with both stern as well as amusement. But he was still better company for a quiet moment with a pipe than the dwarves he had the pleasure (or maybe not) of smoking with.

With this reasoning he found himself wandering away from the group and joining the wizard puffing happily at his pipe. He was quite a long distance from the provisional camp made only for a brief lunch, but within hearing range. Bilbo was sure that even if they were further, they'd still hear the rowdy companions if there was something to happen.

The hobbit exhaled, sending the shapeless cloud of smoke drifting towards Gandalf's smoke eagle, which swung its wings in response. They mingled and after a short while of dancing together, dissolved in the air. The wizard puffed only once more and. after shaking out the ashes, hid his pipe in the confines of a little bag on a strap across his body.

Bilbo felt like it would be convenient to say something rather than standing in awkward silence but he was forestalled.

"Hobbits, my Bilbo, are amazing creatures. I don't think I'll ever understand even a half of what they are built from. Not a month ago you were reluctant to leave your mother's dishes and now look at you. You're set on helping the company despite Thorin's protests," - Gandalf looked at him from under his bushy eyebrows, now with amusement more evident than any kind of stern. And all Bilbo could do was sigh internally.

The unfinished exchange was interrupted by heavy footsteps from behind. The hobbit didn't like the ecstatic smile that suddenly crossed Gandalf's face when he glanced back. He turned around only to find Thorin frowning at him, arms crossed at his chest.

The dwarf looked at Gandalf and opened his mouth as if to say something but the wizard literally shushed him by waving his hand.

"I have very important matters to attend to in the north. I trust you will be able to lead the company for two days of my absence," – with that he turned and hurried towards where his horse was.

Bilbo heard Thorin huff in annoyance and suddenly felt very uncomfortable only in the dwarf's presence and barely in the hearing distance from the camp. Not that he planned on screaming or anything of the sort. He was a hobbit and after all fond of peace and silence more than noise. That train of thought was completely redundant.

The hobbit abruptly swirled in the direction of where the rest of the dwarves were, intent on joining them.

"Master Baggins," – that paused him for good – "A word."

Bilbo sighed and hoping his cheeks weren't as rosy as he felt them burn, he faced the king.

* * *

**AN:** Once again, I'm terribly sorry for the tremendously long wait. At least, I hope it was satisfying. Also, I have holidays now, so there should be a few more frequent updates for a while (I aim to post a new chapter every 2 weeks, so that we can get to the AU part of this fic, namely Misty Mountains and beyond, before I go to school again). The dates of the next updates will be written on my profile page.

Next chapter, Thorin and Bilbo will have a serious talk, arranged by guess-whom :D But seriously, I think they need it. Also, I'll explain what Bilbo saw by the stream.

Thanks for those of you who still stick with this fic. I am incredibly grateful to all of you for the support :)


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